Harmony Kent's Blog, page 133

Cozy Mysteries

 

 

Hello and welcome to my place! I am delighted to bring you Lyrical Press’s Cozy Mysteries today with authors Lynn Cahoon and Janet Finsilver.

The authors will be awarding digital copies of all books on the tour to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Please click on the banner above to visit their other tour stops for more chances to win, and don’t forget to leave a comment!

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Tea Cups and Carnage, by Lynn Cahoon, Mystery

The quaint coastal town of South Cove, California, is all abuzz about the opening of a new specialty shop, Tea Hee. But as Coffee, Books, and More owner Jill Gardner is about to find out, there’s nothing cozy about murder . . .

Shop owner Kathi Corbin says she came to South Cove to get away from her estranged family. But is she telling the truth? And did a sinister someone from her past follow her to South Cove? When a woman claiming to be Kathi’s sister starts making waves and a dead body is found in a local motel, Jill must step in to clear Kathi’s name–without getting herself in hot water.

Excerpt:

Limping home, I saw Greg’s truck parked at City Hall. I went in through the side door that took me to the police station. Amy kept going, heading home to shower before returning to her job as city hall receptionist.

Greg stood by Esmeralda’s desk and raised his eyebrows when he saw me. “Rough workout? I’m glad I was too busy to go today.”

“Oh, you’ll get yours. Don’t think demon trainer didn’t notice you were gone.”

“Okay. So why are you here?” He pushed a curl back out of my face. “Too far to walk home after the workout?”

“You’re just mean, you know that right?” I sank into the couch. It did feel amazing just to veg for a second or two. Okay, so Greg could have been right about my real motives for the impromptu visit. “Actually, I wanted to know about your call-out last night. I’m assuming this was a murder and not an old guy dying in his sleep.”

“And you deduced that from?” He watched me closely.

Shrugging, I sank deeper into the cushions. No wonder Greg didn’t mind sleeping in his office every so often. The couch was amazing. “No one blabbed, if you’re thinking of blaming Toby. You didn’t call, and you’re still wearing last night’s clothes.”

He chuckled. “You’re right. I guess I’m more transparent than I thought. We don’t know much about the murder, except the guy checked in a few days ago under a false name. Of course, the motel doesn’t ask for any verification or even a credit card. Cash only out there.”

“So he’s not a local.” For some reason, this made me feel better. Sure, it was sad someone had died, but people died all the time. I just didn’t want it to be one of my friends.

“Not that I can tell. But I think it’s the biker who’s been racing up and down Main Street. He fits the description.” Greg shrugged and grinned. “And, there’s a bike parked outside his room. Yep, I’m a trained investigator, I notice these things.”

“Big guy?” I thought about how the elderly woman had almost been smashed by the rider just a few days ago.

“Nope. He’s tall, maybe six feet, but if he weighs more than a hundred fifty soaking wet I’ll buy you dinner.” Greg groaned as he stood and walked across the room to his desk. He pulled me to standing. “I hate it when you do that.”

“Do what?” Now that I was upright, my stomach growled reminding me I hadn’t eaten all day. I dug into my tote and pulled out a protein bar.

“Trick me into telling you more than I should.” He pointed to the door. “Out of here. I’ve got work to do.”

I took a bite of my protein bar as I walked out. Pausing at the door, I turned back to look at him. He was already typing into some document. “I take it I won’t see you for dinner?”

“Not tonight. But I’ll be over on Sunday at the latest.” He paused. “Are you working the festival that day?”

“Just the morning shift. We’re closing the main store and only running the food truck that day.” I adjusted the strap on my tote, feeling the weight on my screaming shoulder blade. I walked out of the office and wondered how bad the murder had been. Just because it was a stranger that lay in the morgue, didn’t mean someone from South Cove hadn’t been involved or known the guy.

Or why else would he have been here?

About the Author:

New York Times and USA Today best-selling author Lynn Cahoon is an Idaho expat. She grew up living the small town life she now loves to write about. Currently, she’s living with her husband and two fur babies in a small historic town on the banks of the Mississippi river where her imagination tends to wander. Guidebook to Murder, Book 1 of the Tourist Trap series, won the 2015 Reader’s Crown award for Mystery Fiction. Visit her at www.lynncahoon.com

http://www.kensingtonbooks.com/author...

https://twitter.com/LynnCahoon

https://www.facebook.com/LynnCahoonAu...

Buy links:

TEA CUPS AND CARNAGE: amazonkindle, Apple, Google, Kobo, Nook

MURDER AT THE MANSION: amazonkindle, Apple, Google, Kobo, Nook

Murder at the Mansion, by Janet Finsilver, Mystery

Fortunes, fineries, and foul play . . .

It’s whale-watching season in Redwood Cove, and B&B manager Kelly Jackson’s battening down the hatches for the tourist rush at Redwood Heights—a Victorian-style estate owned by her boss. And due to recent jewelry thefts, her duties include keeping track of the many dust-covered artifacts spread throughout the property. But when Kelly finds Sylvia Porter’s lifeless body, menial tasks don’t seem so terrible.

Enlisting the help of a ragtag group of brainy retirees, aka the “Silver Sentinels,” Kelly’s on the hunt for clues hidden behind the mansion’s glamorous façade and for a killer who may want to make history of her next!

Excerpt:

“Welcome, everyone. My name is Lily Wilson, and I’ll be leading the tour today. If you have questions, please don’t hesitate to ask them. There’s a sign-in sheet on the check-in counter. We’ll be starting at one o’clock, which is in five minutes.” She turned in my direction and said, “I’d like to introduce the manager of one of Resorts International properties, Kelly Jackson. She’s in charge of Redwood Cove Bed-and-Breakfast.”

The members of the group smiled an acknowledgment. A short man in a denim shirt and khaki pants raised his hand. Lily smiled at him and asked, “Is there something you’d like to know?”

He pointed to the entrance to the parlor. “What is that shield above the doorway?”

“Redwood Heights was built by Reginald Brandon. That’s the family coat of arms,” Lily said. “There is an official Brandon crest on file. However, Mr. Brandon wanted to design his own to reflect life in the West. On his shield he chose to put the silhouettes of two rearing stallions, symbols of strength. Rifles instead of swords crossed over the top of them—the weapons of that era. Tall redwood trees filled in the area behind them and were the source of his wealth. You can see his motto for loyalty and honor on the banner.”

I enjoyed her explanation. It added another dimension to an object that had just been an interesting piece.

A tall woman with a long brown braid down her back pointed to a picture. “Is this Mr. and Mrs. Brandon?”

“Yes, that picture is of the Brandons,” Lily replied. “The woman in the picture is the second Mrs. Brandon. As with many wealthy families and historic estates, there are questionable stories in their past. Redwood Heights is no different.”

“How so?” asked the woman.

“We don’t have any pictures of the first Mrs. Brandon. She was the belle of glittering New York high society who found herself in remote Redwood Cove. She disappeared not long after arriving. Some say she ran off with a lover. Rumors cropped up that she took a sizeable amount of Brandon’s money, changed her name, and left to enjoy San Francisco’s growing attractions.”

The cadence of Lily’s voice took the story beyond a runaway wife. Her tilted head and arched eyebrow led you down a path of mystery and intrigue. The visitors moved a little closer.

Lily leaned toward them and whispered, “Some say she never left at all.” Her words lingered in the dead silence.

Everyone was still—frozen in that past time. Goose bumps popped up on my arms. Someone coughed, and the spell was broken.

“After a time, Brandon married again. They had no children and, alas, the house went to a distant cousin.”

I’d been mesmerized by the tale. Snapping out of it, I looked around. Sylvia still wasn’t there.

“The tour will meet in the parlor. Restrooms are down the hallway to your right,” Lily instructed the group.

I walked up the carpeted stairs to the second floor, running my hand over the smooth oak railing. It had taken hundreds of polishings to develop the fine patina and rich glow.

Sylvia’s room was the first door at the top of the staircase. I knocked quietly. When there was no response, I knocked harder. She must really be a sound sleeper. I tried the door, but it was locked. I rushed downstairs, retrieved her room key, and glanced at my watch. If Sylvia hurried, she’d still have time to make the start of the tour. Arriving back at her door, I knocked again.

“Mrs. Porter, it’s Kelly. The tour is starting in a couple of minutes.” I got no response, so I unlocked the door and peeked in. Sylvia was sitting in front of her dressing table, her back to me.

I opened the door a little farther. “Mrs. Porter?” I stepped inside the room. In the filtered light from the curtained windows, Sylvia’s image reflected in the mirror. Her eyes were closed, and her head rested on her shoulder. She must have dozed off before making it into bed for a nap.

My attention was drawn to a brooch on the left side of Sylvia’s blouse as I approached her. I hadn’t noticed it before. It was a lovely piece—a large egg-shaped pearl surrounded by a burst of red.

I touched Sylvia’s shoulder. No response.

“Mrs. Porter?” I gently shook her.

Sylvia’s head rolled forward and hung down. Her dangling hair covered the side of her face.

I gasped, and my heart began to pound. I looked more closely at her. The burst of red wasn’t part of a pin—it was blood.

About the Author:

Janet Finsilver and her husband live in the San Francisco Bay Area. She loves animals and has two dogs—Kylie, a Rhodesian ridgeback, and Ellie, a boxer/coonhound mix. Janet enjoys horseback riding, snow skiing, and cooking. She is currently working on her next Redwood Cove mystery.

http://janetfinsilver.com/

http://www.kensingtonbooks.com/author.aspx/31695

https://www.facebook.com/janetfinsilverauthor/

https://twitter.com/JanetFinsilver

Buy Links:

TEA CUPS AND CARNAGE: amazonkindle, Apple, Google, Kobo, Nook

MURDER AT THE MANSION: amazonkindle, Apple, Google, Kobo, Nook

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Monday Musings Part Two: Be a Nobody

 

 

Be a Nobody

 

What do I mean by ‘be a nobody’? Everyone wants to be a someone, right? Isn’t that a good thing?

I’m not talking about being without drive or purpose. What I’m talking about is not having a position to defend. It doesn’t matter what other people think or do or say. What’s important is what we think, do, and say. Only we can affect our lives. Only we can change ourselves, and we cannot change anybody else.

At the end of the day, words are just that: words. They only have the power we give them. If I’m always trying to protect myself, or my sense of who I am, I can’t ever be truly there for anyone else. When you get right down to it, being a somebody is a selfish way to live. I’m always going to be holding back in an attempt at self-preservation.

In doing that, I miss the essential tenet that the more we give, the more we get. Life is far easier once we relax and stop fighting. We have more energy to put into the important stuff, and end up with more drive and purpose than ever before. With the core difference that we don’t identify ourselves with a particular role or way of being.

This is incredibly freeing. Had I identified strongly with my job as being who I was when I lost my leg and everything changed, I would have been in a real mess. My whole identity would have been lost along with my limb. That’s no way to live. It’s far easier to be a nobody. Being a nobody means I get to be everybody. I don’t have to live my life trapped in a box.

When it comes right down to it, we are who we tell ourselves we are. We make up our story. Nobody else can do that for us. Even if we have people around us telling this and saying that; we have to repeat those things to ourselves for them to become our reality.

For years, I suffered from serious lack of self-esteem. I believed what I’d been told for years. Not until I recognised that I’d turned from victim to perpetrator—from hearing the negativity to feeding that negativity to myself—could I do anything about it. First, I had to see the stories I told myself, and then I had to learn to see them without judging them. Only at that point, could I stop telling those lies to myself.

I’m a stronger person for it. I no longer have an unconfident ‘me’ to defend. I am content and confident enough to be a nobody. We have to watch with care the stories we tell ourselves. Choose your world with care. After all, that’s what makes our lives what they are. In the wise words of zen:

‘We make our own world and then we live in it.’

If you missed last week’s Monday Musing, you can find it HERE

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Take Me to the Willow

Hi guys! It gives me great pleasure today to host author Shelly Brimley and her book, Take Me to the Willow! For the other stops on Shelly’s Goddess Fish Virtual Book Tour, please click on the banner above.

One randomly chosen winner via rafflecopter will win a $50 Amazon/BN.com gift card. Please do leave a comment to support the author, as well as for more chances to win the giveaway!

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Historical Fiction

In defending his life-long friendship with Charlie, Will may have inadvertently had a hand in the growing chaos that leads to the horrifying night when his familiar world is shattered.

When Will Wright, the eighteen year old son of a small-town Arkansas sheep herder in 1905, begins reading his mother’s journal, he is inspired by its startling content to start putting his own experiences to paper for posterity. An unsophisticated but principled young man, Will is becoming increasingly aware of the hatred that exists in the world. When he begins his own journal, Will can’t know what events are to take place in the next five years – from his mother’s battle with a life threatening illness, to his embarrassments of learning how to be in love for the first time, to witnessing Charlie’s fate at the hands of the bigoted townspeople. While part of him wishes the pain in those pages didn’t exist, he knows that the original purpose for keeping the journal has been realized – to show his kin how he became the man he is. He will probably never go back through and read again the pages he’s written, but someday, someone will, and they will see that along with the hurt, Will’s life had been one that knew true joy, absolute love, and undying friendship.

Excerpt:

“Men and women are different,” Will, he said.

“I know that,” I said.

“Now don’t interrupt me, son!,” he said, his voice rather abrupt and a bit on the nervous side. “Just let me say what I got to say.”

“Sorry, I said,” feelin’ startled.

Daddy scratched the back of his head and started again.

“Men and women are different,” he said.

We’ve already covered that, I thought to myself but didn’t dare share that with him.

“And when they come together as husband and wife for the first time, it’s real important for the man to be sensitive to the woman so she feels comfortable… because the woman might feel uncomfortable if the man ain’t sensitive,” he said.

I just sat and listened, not sure where he was goin’ with it. He didn’t seem to be goin’ anywhere except around in circles. All I could seem to grasp was that I’m supposed to be sensitive — about what… I had no clue. And Hannah is gonna end up feelin’ comfortable or uncomfortable – I’m not sure which. And speakin’ of bein’ uncomfortable, Daddy looked like a lone rabbit in a coyote’s den. I don’t believe he looked at me the whole time he was talkin’, just fidgeted and looked at the ground.

“You understand?” he asked.

I couldn’t bring myself to tell him I had no idea what in tarnation he was talkin’ about. So I just nodded instead.

“Uh huh,” I said.

“Good,” said Daddy as he put his hat back on and stood up to leave.

“Thank you, sir,” I said. “This was real helpful.”

Daddy stood there for a minute, not sure what to do next. He nervously shifted his weight from one foot to the other, and at one point, I thought he might shake my hand, but then he just said, “Alright then”, and went back in the house.

Shelly Brimley was born in Flagstaff, AZ, where she lived most of her life until moving to Mexico to study abroad. After graduation, Shelly did some volunteer work in Africa and completed her graduate degree while working in an adolescent drug treatment center. After acquiring her Master’s degree, she worked as a counselor at a residential shelter for children who had been smuggled and trafficked into the USA from different countries around the world. She also taught English to adult refugees before resigning to raise her children. Shelly wanted to use her experience working with others as a source of inspiration in her writing, offering a voice for those who are not typically heard or considered.

Website link –http://www.shellybrimley.com

Author Facebook-https://www.facebook.com/shellybrimleyauthor

Goodreads-https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/28183223-take-me-to-the-willow

Amazon – On sale for only $0.99 until May 22

http://www.amazon.com/Take-Me-Willow-Shelly-Brimley/dp/0997081600

 

My review can be found on Goodreads and Amazon UK.

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Set for Summer Giveaway!

Summer is nearly here. Time to kick back, relax, and enjoy the sunshine.
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Friend of the Devil and Advice for Writers!

 

Hello and welcome to my blog today! It gives me great pleasure to host author Mark Spivak. Not only does he bring us a great sneak peek of his book, Friend of the Devil, he also gives advice for writers!

Not only all that, but Mark has a giveaway running, where One randomly chosen winner via rafflecopter will win a $50 Amazon/BN.com gift card. Please do leave a comment for more chances to win! Mark’s other tour stops can be found by clicking on the banner above.

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Advice for Writers

Mark Spivak

Ernest Hemingway was once asked if he had any advice for young writers, and he responded this way: “Let’s say that he should go out and hang himself because he finds that writing well is impossibly difficult. Then he should be cut down without mercy and forced by his own self to write as well as he can for the rest of his life. At least he will have the story of the hanging to commence with.”

Papa’s advice as a bit drastic, of course, but it probably contained a kernel of truth. Learning to write stories that other people want to read can be a very long and painful process. It takes years, usually decades, and is filled with false starts, frustration, rejection, and finally the tendency of the world to withhold recognition when you do master the craft. In the meantime, everyone around you is enjoying the visible fruits of success: drinking Champagne, skiing in Aspen, driving a Porsche.

Obviously it takes a formidable degree of persistence to become successful as a writer. The truth is that the rejection never stops, and it never really becomes easier. The 2000th rejection hurts just as much as the first one, particularly considering that most writers are sensitive people who don’t take rejection well in the first place.

If you want to be a writer, everyone will tell you not to give up, and they are absolutely correct. Getting to the end of the journey requires a remarkable level of persistence, the ability to push on when you feel you can’t do it anymore. Never give up. If you persist long enough, you will master the craft. You’ll learn how to tell a story that people want to read. And most importantly, you’ll experience a sense of satisfaction so profound that it will heal all the rejection you encountered along the way. That’s an amazing feeling, and something worth fighting for.

About the Author:

Mark Spivak is an award-winning writer specializing in wine, spirits, food, restaurants and culinary travel. He was the wine writer for the Palm Beach Post from 1994-1999, and was honored by the Academy of Wine Communications for excellence in wine coverage “in a graceful and approachable style.” Since 2001 has been the Wine and Spirits Editor for the Palm Beach Media Group; his running commentary on the world of food, wine and spirits is available at the Global Gourmet blog on www.palmbeachillustrated.com. He is the holder of the Certificate and Advanced diplomas from the Court of Master Sommeliers.

Mark’s work has appeared in National Geographic Traveler, Robb Report, Men’s Journal, Art & Antiques, the Continental and Ritz-Carlton magazines, Arizona Highways and Newsmax. He is the author of Iconic Spirits: An Intoxicating History (Lyons Press, 2012) and Moonshine Nation: The Art of Creating Cornbread in a Bottle (Lyons Press, 2014). His first novel, Friend of the Devil, is published by Black Opal Books.

Website: http://www.markspivakbooks.com

https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4659831.Mark_Spivak?from_search=true&search_version=service

https://www.facebook.com/mark.spivak.3

Amazon author page URL: http://www.amazon.com/Mark-Spivak/e/B007QASMAC/ref=sr_tc_2_0?qid=1458677775&sr=1-2-ent

Barnes and Noble Author URL: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/mark+spivak?_requestid=552756

 

Friend of the Devil
Thriller

In 1990 some critics believe that America’s most celebrated chef, Joseph Soderini di Avenzano, cut a deal with the Devil to achieve fame and fortune. Whether he is actually Bocuse or Beelzebub, Avenzano is approaching the 25th anniversary of his glittering Palm Beach restaurant, Chateau de la Mer, patterned after the Michelin-starred palaces of Europe.

Journalist David Fox arrives in Palm Beach to interview the chef for a story on the restaurant’s silver jubilee. He quickly becomes involved with Chateau de la Mer’s hostess, unwittingly transforming himself into a romantic rival of Avenzano. The chef invites Fox to winter in Florida and write his authorized biography. David gradually becomes sucked into the restaurant’s vortex: shipments of cocaine coming up from the Caribbean; the Mafia connections and unexplained murder of the chef’s original partner; the chef’s ravenous ex-wives, swirling in the background like a hidden coven. As his lover plots the demise of the chef, Fox tries to sort out hallucination and reality while Avenzano treats him like a feline’s catnip-stuffed toy.

Excerpt:

He perused Chateau de la Mer’s large and mostly incomprehensible menu. Changed every few weeks, handwritten in Avenzano’s elaborate cursive before being photocopied, it closely resembled an annotated Medieval manuscript. Finally, he acceded to the staff’s offer to prepare a tasting menu for him, accompanied by the appropriate wines.

He was presented with a sculpture of dried vegetables in the shape of a bird’s nest, filled with a combination of wild mushrooms and chopped truffles, bathed in an intensely reduced demi-glaze. The carrots, zucchini and peppers had been cut into paper-thin strips, intertwined and allowed to dry, yet retained a surprising intensity of flavor.

He consumed a dish of tomato, basil and egg noodles, bathed in a light cream sauce, perfumed with fresh sage and studded with veal sweetbreads.

He ate an astonishing dish of butter-poached lobster, remarkably sweet and perfectly underdone, flavored with sweet English peas and garnished with a ring of authentic Genoese pesto.

He was served a slice of Avenzano’s signature Bedouin-stuffed poussin—a turkey stuffed with a goose, in turn stuffed with a duckling, in turn stuffed with a poussin, or baby chicken, with a core of truffled foie gras at its center, covered with an Etruscan sauce of chopped capers,

raisins and pine nuts. This dish had been the source of much controversy over the years, since it bore a close resemblance to a Louisiana terducken. It predated the terducken, however, and was supposedly inspired by a creation first served to the French royal court. For good measure, Avenzano had added influences from the cuisine of the Middle East.

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Monday Musings Part One: Right Here, Right Now

 

Right Here, Right Now.

 

Have you got that Monday feeling? The one where the whole rest of the week looms ahead, and you wish that Friday would get a move on and get here already. Perhaps you felt like that on Sunday night?

I’m one of the lucky few who enjoys work; being self-employed helps. And, still, I prefer my days off. How much more so any of you folks who hate your job.

The trouble is, if we spend all week looking for Friday, we miss the precious time we have right now. The older I become, the faster time goes. I swear my watch has sprouted jet engines. These days, all I seem to ask is, ‘Where did the time go?’

Each time I feel like the world’s going too fast, it reminds me how little time I have left. Already, I’ve used up forty-three years of whatever allotment I have. And I don’t want to waste it. I’ve stared death in the face more than once, and I’m not ready yet. I have so much more life to live. However, if I know only one thing, it’s that we don’t get to choose when we go. When our time’s up, it’s up. End of.

Luckily, time doesn’t exist. We made it up. If you’ve ever sat quietly, you’ll probably have spotted this already. Have you noticed that when you have something unpleasant to do, time drags. And the opposite is true: when you’re having fun, time flies. Strange, considering that your watch or clock ticks away the seconds at the same rate, regardless.

The only thing that’s different is our perception. And this is good news. It means we have a choice. It means we’re not enslaved to time. This is the key to stopping the clock and being Right here, right now.

 Sure, time has its uses for keeping us on schedule for trains, meetings, and all that stuff. However, we have to realise that it doesn’t have any intrinsic reality. To live a life outside of time is to live a life free.

I used to plan everything. Seriously, it bordered on OCD. I lost count of the number of times the universe laughed at my carefully calendared plans. It took a long time for me to understand in a blood and bones way that I wasn’t in the driver’s seat. Each time we breathe in, we assume we’ll breathe out, but it’s not something we can take for granted. Likewise, every time we fall asleep, we trust that we’ll wake up, but nowhere is that guaranteed.

While this all might sound negative, it’s a useful reminder to enjoy ourselves right now. A prompt not to wish our precious lives away. I might not like Monday too much, but I can’t change the day of the week. What I can do is to make the most of it. In the wise words of Zen:

‘Every day is a perfect day.’

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Memorial Day Facebook Hop!!!

Welcome to the Memorial Day Facebook Hop,
hosted by Love Kissed Book Bargains!
With tons of prizes from almost 100 authors and bloggers, including Amazon gift cards, it’s a great way to spend Memorial Day!
Don’t miss out! Visit one, or all, to participate. Easy entries.
Meet some new authors! Discover some awesome blogs.
Most of all … have fun!
https://promosimple.com/ps/9ae5
The Memorial Day Hop starts here:
***HarmonyKentOnline-Facebook***
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The Trouble with Misbehaving

 

Hello and welcome to my blog today. I am thrilled to welcome author Victoria Hanlen and her historical romance novel, The Trouble with Misbehaving. To see her other tour stops, please click on the banner above. 

Victoria will be awarding a $25 Amazon or B/N GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Remember, the more tour stops you visit and the more comments you leave, the greater your chance will be of winning the draw!

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Love, Betrayal and Redemption

Calista ‘CC’ Collins is used to being the talk of the town. With her scandalous past she’s learnt the hard way that a woman needs to be strong to get what she wants in a man’s world. And what she wants is the infamous Captain Beauford Tollier—roguish son of an earl, notorious blockade-runner and all-round knave of the seas.

However, Captain Beau is not one to be cajoled—he is done with the dangerous sea life and ready to follow the life of the straight and narrow. But with many powerful forces circling around him, Beau doesn’t stand a chance…

Excerpt:

“Since you burned my letters we still have much to discuss.”

He squared his shoulders. “I think not. Our brief association is at an end. I do not wish to be a part of your mad games. After the night before last—”

“After the night before last?”

“It seems best to allow you your distance.”

He heard a quick intake of breath and a rustle of silk. Her voice seemed to rise in pitch, “Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone what you almost did with crazy ol’ Miss Collins. But then you have lots of secrets, do you not, Captain Tollier? What’s one more?”

“I don’t know what you mean, nor do I care.” He started walking again.

“Looking at all these…lovely portraits, I can see why people whisper you’re the family’s cuckoo.”

Lurching around, he clenched his fists in an effort to control his temper. Not only did the insult shock, it cut into one of his earliest, deepest insecurities. He lowered his voice to a dangerous calm. “You are fortunate to be a woman, madam. Were you a man, such an insult might force me to call you out.”

She stood and gave him a look so sultry it almost begged him to teach her lessons of a different sort.

“Ah yes, call me out. And what should I call you?”

He turned to leave, hoping to prevent saying or doing something he’d regret. Before he’d taken two steps, C.C. said in a voice full of authority, “Mr. Wainwright. Perhaps Captain Scott? Or would it be Cornelius Dolan?”

The hairs on his neck stood straight out.

About the Author:

Award winning, historical romance author, VICTORIA HANLEN, has worked at a wide range of jobs, from fashion, to corporate business, to treading the boards of stage and professional opera. A lifelong writer, she once put her skills to use in PR and advertising. But her favorite form of writing is happily-ever-afters spiced with a dash of wit and a page-turning mystery. Victoria and her husband live in rural New England surrounded by a host of wildlife.

She enjoys hearing from readers at:

http://www.victoriahanlen.com

https://www.facebook.com/VictoriaHanlen

https://www.twitter.com/VictoriaHanlen

 

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Mills & Boon: https://www.millsandboon.co.uk/p46539/the-trouble-with-misbehaving.htm

Amazon US: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B0175WV0AE

Amazon   UK: http://www.amazon.co.uk/Trouble-Misbehaving-Victoria-Hanlen-ebook/dp/B0175WV0AE

Barnes & Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/victoria+hanlen

Google Play: https://books.google.com/books/about/The_Trouble_With_Misbehaving.html?id=1c_PCgAAQBAJ

Kobo books: https://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/ebook/the-trouble-with-misbehaving

BAM!: http://www.booksamillion.com/search?id=5529803929861&query=VICTORIA+HANLEN&where=eBooks

 

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Falling for Heroes Box Set

 

Hi guys! It gives me great pleasure to host Eryn La Plant with her Falling for Heroes Box Set in conjunction with her Goddess Fish Promotions tour. To see the other tour stops, please click on the banner above.

Eryn will be awarding a $10 Amazon or B/N GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Please leave a comment to support Eryn, and for extra chances to win the Rafflecopter giveaway!

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Falling for Heroes box set by Eryn La Plant

Contemporary Romance

Falling for Shock

Oliver Hannel, England’s sexiest new star, has finally moved from the television screen to the silver screen, playing comic book hero The Shock in Hollywood’s upcoming blockbuster. While filming one summer night in the midwestern town of Greenfield, Indiana, Oliver finds himself witnessing a crime in progress. Will he embrace his inner superhero and save the day? Or will he remember he isn’t invincible and call for help?

Layla Brooks is a small town girl with a big spirited heart, especially when it comes to her twin sister, Lucy. She’ll rest at nothing to protect her from a casino mogul’s henchman bent on collecting a debt… even if that includes taking her sister’s punishment. But a strange suited man out from the shadows isn’t about to let that happen.

Oliver and Layla’s opposite worlds collide with a Bam! But are either of them ready for the lies, truth and lust that comes along with a relationship born of shock? Or will their love come and go as fast as a bolt of lightning?

Falling for Freedom

FBI Special Agent Cara Giosino is ballsy and relentless when it comes to justice. When she finds herself in London in furious pursuit of the notorious casino mogul and crime lord Feng Khai, she must give up her solo act and rely upon the fearless Interpol agent who caught Khai the first time.

Edward Hannel is not the man he once was. Tragedy has struck him down, leaving him a shell of his former self. He wants nothing to do with Interpol or the sexy Agent Giosino and her plan to take down the criminal who extorted his brother two years prior. That is until he discovers the madman’s vengeance is still focused on his family.

As they race to capture Khai and protect Edward’s family, neither Cara nor Edward realizes the depth to which this case will take them or how fast their partnership will bloom. And they certainly don’t expect to find such bliss in each other’s arms when they finally give in to letting go and being free.

Excerpt:

Falling for Freedom

PROLOGUE

1997

Washington D.C.

U.S.A

 

“Hi. I’m Cara Giosino and I’m here in the J. Edgar Hoover building learning how to be an FBI agent—Ugh! That sucked.”

Cara clicked the remote to her dad’s video camera so she could start all over again. She tossed her hair over her shoulder, happy to see that it fluttered like one of those shampoo commercials all black and flowy in the view finder screen. Maybe she could make her sixth grade career day video on being a hair model instead. No, no, no she wanted to be an agent just like her dad, a few doors down from where she was in the conference room where she was recording. Everyone in her family worked for some big government agency and so would she one day. Uncle Tommy worked in the Las Vegas field office FBI and her grandpa was in the CIA, though no one knew where he was at the moment.

Her eye caught the clock on the wall. It was almost lunchtime. She had to get going. Her dad was taking her out for pizza. Clearing her throat nice and loud, Cara clicked record and started again, this time flashing a big smile for the camera. “Coming to you live from the J. Edgar Hoover building, it’s the future Special Agent Cara Giosino.” She tisked and shook her head. “That sucked too. I sound like a stupid game show guy.”

She reset again, got serious and got rid of her cheesy grin. “Hi. I’m with my dad, head of the D.C. Counterterrorism Division, at the FBI. My name is Cara Giosino and when I grow up I want to be just like h—“

RAT TAT TAT TAT TAT TAT!!

A ferocious, loud, mechanical noise made her jump and scream, holding her ears. She dropped to the ground, landing on her purple book bag. Other people were screaming and yelling too, the kind of hollering that sounded hurt and scared. Was that gunfire?

Eryn LaPlant grew up wishing she could have lived in the books she read, living through characters and their romantic adventures. Now she writes romances of her own to share with readers like you.

When not writing, she spends her time with her loving husband, their handsome son and fluffy new Pomeranian puppy, Marley, in the Land of Lincoln.

For more information on Eryn, please visit her website:

www.novelisterynlaplant.wordpress.com

FB: http://on.fb.me/10fGbYs

Twitter: https://twitter.com/erynalicia

Buy Links:

Price is $0.99

BN: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/falling-for-heroes-boxset-eryn-laplant/1123601959

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Falling-Heroes-Box-Set-Freedom-ebook/dp/B01DLBG56W/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1462066657&sr=1-1&keywords=falling+for+heroes

Other works by Eryn include:

Beneath the Wall

The Blue Lute

Falling for Heroes series:

Falling for Shock

Falling for Freedom

and

upcoming Falling for Phoenix (2016)

 

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Danube in Candlelight

Hi guys! It gives me great pleasure today to host Stephanie Burkhart and her book, Danube in Candlelight! For other stops on her Goddess Fish Promotions Review Tour, please click on the banner above.

Stephanie Burkhart will be awarding a $10 Amazon/BN GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Please do leave a comment to support the author, as well as for more chances to win the rafflecopter giveaway!

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Paranormal Romance

Morgan Duma has always known she’s different. Her eyes have unusual gold rings around her irises, a trait she’s inherited from her father. She’s faster and stronger than most. Her endurance and stamina allow her to complete tasks in a quick and efficient fashion. Since she was a little girl, she knew there was only one man for her — Adam Varga.

Morgan learned to dance in Adam’s arms. They grew up playing the piano together. Adam’s calm, soothing presence was the perfect compliment to her restless soul. Not only that, he shared her differences down to his feral eyes.

Enter Zoltan Kristos, Hungary’s Minister of Reconstruction. He shares those same golden eyes that Morgan possesses. After Zoltan carries her mother out of a blazing fire, Morgan’s life takes a turn she doesn’t expect. She discovers the reasons for her differences, and questions her very identity. Is Adam strong enough to be the man she needs him to be?

Excerpt:

Morgan drew in a deep breath as the knot in her shoulder tensed. Adam had a point. How could she be so self-centered, dwelling on her high-strung emotions? Perhaps it was a cover. Perhaps she couldn’t face the real issue because it mortified her. She didn’t want to think about it now. Morgan turned her head away and reached over her shoulder to massage that tension-filled knot.

“Turn around.” Adam’s voice brooked no debate. She liked a man who commanded authority. Morgan turned, and he massaged both her shoulders. Heat from his hands trailed down her back. Her core warmed. Her body relaxed, reacting instinctively and with a desire she couldn’t hide.

“Did I hit a nerve?” he asked.

“A nerve? In my neck?” She took a step backward to be closer to him.

“No. About your father. Is your real fear about what will happen to your mother once he turns her?” Adam kept his voice low and leaned close to her ear.

She closed her eyes briefly and faced her anxiety. “Yes.”

“Morgan, our fathers’ condition has a host of positive traits — heightened senses, for example, but the best trait is the healing factor.”

“I understand, Adam. That healing factor will help my mother recover from her awful injuries, but it comes with a tradeoff — she’s going to become a werewolf.”

“Is it better she become addicted to morphine? That addiction is a beast in itself. Which would you prefer she’d become? The soldiers hooked on morphine have vacant eyes, and their hands tremble for their next fix. Do you want that for your mother? Fighting something she can’t win against, or do you want her dealing with a manageable condition? Both our fathers are good men. They’ve managed it.”

Morgan pursed her lips. Adam’s tone was laced in objectivity and confidence, offering her a plausible reason for her father’s actions. Morgan didn’t want a shell of skin and bones that resembled her mother — she wanted her mother well, both emotionally and physically. Why had she been so selfish not to see that?

“It doesn’t bother you that you have these traits?”

“I’m comfortable with who I am.”

Morgan spun around, pressing the length of her body against Adam, curving her hand around the nape of his neck, and bringing his lips to hers. Their mouths met in a searing kiss full of desire. Want. Warmth. Pleasure replaced Morgan’s emotional pain, and she deepened the kiss between them by sweeping her tongue into his mouth. Adam groaned, wrapped his hands around her waist, and tugged her closer. Morgan continued the kiss, nipping his lower lip with her teeth. A blast of heat from his body washed over her like an ocean wave, sending pleasure spiraling through her. God, she had never felt so wonderful.

About the Author:

Stephanie Burkhart is a 911 dispatcher for LAPD. She was born and raised in Manchester, New Hampshire. After serving 11 years in the US Army she currently calls Castaic, California her home. Stephanie was married in Denmark in 1991 and has two young sons. She adores chocolate, is addicted to coffee and enjoys early morning walks. She’s also an assistant den leader for her son’s Cub Scout den and is a Boy Scout mom. She writes paranormal, contemporary, and steampunk romance and has two children’s books published with 4RV Publishing.

FIND HER ON THE WEB AT:

WEBSITE: http://www.stephanieburkhart.com

TWITTER: http://twitter.com/StephBurkhart

FACEBOOK: https://www.facebook.com/StephanieBurkhartAuthor

GOOD READS: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4031660.Stephanie_Burkhart

YOU TUBE CHANNEL: http://www.youtube.com/user/botrina?feature=mhee

PINTEREST: http://pinterest.com/sgburkhart/

 

BUY LINKS FOR DANUBE IN CANDLELIGHT:

PUBLISHER’S BUY LINK: http://www.desertbreezepublishing.com/budapest-moon-book-three-danube-in-candlelight-epub/

AMAZON KINDLE BUY LINK: http://amzn.com/B0061XJFG0

BARNES & NOBLE NOOK BUY LINK: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/hungarian-moon-book-three-stephanie-burkhart/1107039692?ean=2940013659148&itm=1&usri=danube%2bin%2bcandlelight

ALL ROMANCE EBOOKS: http://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-hungarianmoonbookthreedanubeincandlelight-636082-139.html

 

My Review can be found on Goodreads and Amazon UK.

 

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