Welcome Sofie! #amreading #romance #regency #regencyromance

Sofie spent much of her twenties raising two boys and reading every book she could get her hands on. Once she realized that she was no longer satisfied with simply reading the books she loved, that she must write them, too, she decided to finish her degree and embark on a writing career. Mr. Darling and the boys gave her their wholehearted blessing.

When she’s not writing heroes who make her swoon, she runs a marathon in a different state every year, visits crumbling medieval castles whenever she gets a chance, and enjoys a slightly codependent relationship with her beagle, Bosco.

For more information on Sofie and her available titles you may visit her WEBSITE or other social media.

 

Paris, September 1824

Lord Nicholas Asquith needs his wife. Too bad he broke her heart ten years ago.

Can he resist a second chance at the love he lost?

When Mariana catches the eye of the man at the center of an assassination plot, Nick puts aside their painful past and enlists her to obtain information by any means necessary, even if it means seducing the enemy agent.

Even if the thought makes his blood boil.

Only by keeping his distance from Mariana these last ten years was he able to pretend indifference to her. With every moment spent with her, he feels his tightly held control slipping . . .

Can she trust the spy who broke her heart?

Mariana spent the last decade forgetting Nick. Now she has the chance to best him at his own game, an opportunity she can’t resist, even as her view of him begins to shift. Increasingly, she wants nothing more than to seduce her own husband . . . 

It’s only a matter of time before mad passion ignites, a passion never convincingly extinguished. A passion that insists on surrendering to the yearning of the flesh and, quite possibly, of the heart.

Nick watched Lady Mariana slip through a crack in the exterior French doors.

He paused. A man like him had no business following virgins into the night for he had no intention of ever marrying. Marriage and children crippled a man involved in espionage.

Yet the hesitation lasted only long enough for him to set down his brandy. In three short strides, he was through the doors and beneath an indigo sky dotted with a million stars, the sort of sky only possible outside the fog-bound city. He stood uncertainly on the stone portico feeling exposed and a thousand ways a fool.

Where had she gone?

Instinct guided him down the wide staircase and onto a crushed granite path lined with all manner of flowers. Montfort’s was the quintessential English garden with its riots of overgrown blooms of every hue, tonight rendered monochromatic by the stark rays of the moon.

He’d begun to doubt his instinct when he rounded a bend in the path and spotted her some ten yards ahead, seeming to be in no particular hurry. Her ease was apparent in the relaxed set of her shoulders and the way her hand trailed idly above the flowers, allowing their velvety petals to brush the bare flesh of her palm. The way the light washed over and embraced her called to mind Selene, goddess of the moon.

He should turn back before they ruined each other.

Just as he made to retrace his steps toward the house, she called out over her shoulder, “Are you going to skulk behind me all night?”

They were the first words she ever spoke to him. His heart kicked up a notch, and his tongue became a sodden blanket in his mouth as a series of facts occurred to him:

He’d followed her. He was alone with her. And he wanted nothing more than to touch her and know the scent of her. His stride increased in length to catch her.

“Do we need a formal introduction before you will speak to me?” she teased, presenting him her flawless profile. The moon above limned her features in a contradictory soft, yet crisp, glow. “Or are you simply shy?”

“You must know who I am,” he called out to her back.

“He speaks.” An enchanting giggle floated over her shoulder. “I know you are one of many young men who venture out to my uncle’s estate to discuss England’s politics. But who you are specifically, I can’t say.”

They reached the ha-ha, and he watched her clear its low wall with ease before turning toward the edge of the woods, him following at her heels like a lap dog hungry for the tiniest crumb of her attention.

He found himself close behind her, close enough to catch her scent of jasmine and neroli. It struck him that this wasn’t the one-note scent of a debutante. On the surface, the floral jasmine indicated the shallow innocence of her peers, but the deep bitter-orange neroli complicated that assessment and made for a more interesting conclusion. She was different.

“Why did you leave the house?” he asked.

His lips curved into a half-smile when she jumped at his words. Words so close she might have felt their dewy warmth on the nape of her neck.

“I was hot.”

Three simpler words didn’t exist in the English language. Yet that one simple word—hot—sent a spike of longing straight through him. “I suppose the air was a bit stale,” he rasped.

They climbed a short rise that overlooked a small pond, wavy beams of moonlight rippling across its fluid surface. What was he doing in the woods with this moon goddess? It wasn’t too late to turn back.

Then she spoke the next words, and he was lost.

“I wasn’t hot from stale air.” She faced him, her amber eyes, clear and unflinching, gauging his reaction. “It was you. I was hot because of you.”

No longer could he keep his emotions under a tight rein. She’d negated that control with a few careless words that struck his core with the precision of a well-aimed arrow.

“Did no one ever teach you not to say such things to strange men?”

“They tried,” she said with the assuredness of a woman with far too much experience, or maybe it was far too little. “There is nothing strange about you.”

“You should try those words on a different man,” he said, straining for a tone of paternal guidance. If she believed it, he might, too. “One who would marry you.”

“Oh, I care naught for that,” she said on a laugh.

Instinctively, protectively, he reached out and pulled her close, her upturned lips a hairsbreadth away from his, her playful eyes inviting him to bridge the distance. “Society doesn’t tolerate ladies who entertain loose morals.”

With feelings of longing, desire, and bewilderment warring inside him, he lowered his head and touched his mouth to hers, unprepared for the responding punch of electricity. His hands slid to her waist, and her fingers found the back of his neck, her nails tickling across sensitive skin, her body swaying into his in surrender.

Kisses had the power to reveal truths about two people that extended far beyond trivialities like compatibility and incompatibility. This kiss revealed a single unshakeable truth: she was the only woman for him.

It was a truth that shook him clear through to his bones.

His eyes flew open, and he broke the kiss, eliciting a tiny gasp of protest from her. He watched with a mixture of self-loathing and thwarted passion as she opened desire-glazed eyes and closed kiss-crushed lips.

“A girl like you is a girl one could marry,” he murmured. They were heedless and dangerous words that fell from his lips, and he couldn’t understand why he spoke them.

“A girl like me?

“You.”

“One could marry?”

“I.”

“Careful,” she whispered into the space between their lips. It was the only space that mattered in the universe. “I might hold you to such words.”

“I might hope you do.”

Again, words fell from his mouth of their own accord, and he’d proposed to her. There had been no biting it back.

And he hadn’t wanted to.

At least, not for another five seconds.

He’d proposed to Lady Mariana Montfort, a girl he didn’t know.

That wasn’t precisely true.

In the ways that mattered, he knew her. 

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A Writer’s Life as told by Phoebe Buffay #writing #amwriting #romance #fantasy #paranormal

Nearly two years ago, I wrote a post called A Writer’s Life as told by Joey Tribbiani from the hit TV show Friends. About nine months later, I did another one called A Writer’s Life as told by Ross Geller, and a few months after that,  I did A Writer’s Life as told by Chandler Bing. They were so much fun to put together, that of course, I couldn’t let the boys have all the fun. So I asked and you answered. Which Friend should I do next?

The votes are in and Phoebe Buffay was the winner, so . . .

When you think of an amazing plot twist . . .

When you’re trying to come up with a good sex scene . . .

When you’re trying to get past your writer’s block . . .

And then when your author friends brag about good writing days while you have writer’s block . . .

When your character does something you didn’t plan on . . . and it’s not good . . .

When someone asks you if your novel is done and it’s not . . .

When you first open up the notes from your editor . . .

And you read through them . . .

Only to discover that your editor wants you to make changes that cause massive rewrites . . .

When someone asks you how your edits are going . . .

When you finally finish those massive rewrites . . . and go out to celebrate drinking . . .

And dancing . . .

When you get a rejection letter from a publisher or agent . . .

And they say that they can’t market or sell your novel . . .

When someone asks you what you’re going to do next . . .

But in the end, you decide all you can do is keep moving forward . . .

MidWinters Eve Blog Hop #romance #giveaway #rodanandfields #Klondike #historical

Yes, I’m about to go there.

I’m about to remind you that you have less than a week to finish your Christmas shopping—5 days, in fact. Ha!

I’m sorry, and yet, I’m not sorry. For those who haven’t finished, I feel your pain. I haven’t finished either.

So with that, I think I wrote this more as a punishment to myself. It’s masochistic, I know, but I guess we need to be a little now and then to help us get our butts in gear.

 

While the tasks of Christmas shopping, mailing cards, hanging lights and decorating the house, and all the holiday baking stress out some, it doesn’t really stress me out. Sure, I have moments where I can feel overwhelmed, but for the most part, I try to soak in the experience rather than dread it.

Growing up, my parents never let me believe in Santa Claus. I never really knew why, and I’ve never asked, but I knew that when I had kids, I wanted to do that different…or at least, a little differently. Of course, in our house will still believe, talk about, and focus on the birth of Jesus Christ during the Christmas season. However, with that said, I’m also one of those parents who allows the belief in Santa Claus until they decide they don’t want to believe anymore.

I know that some would scoff at that, but I don’t really care.

For me, Christmas is holiday season to spend with my family. Even if as I type this my kids are driving me insane. Sure, I get to spend every day with them, but there is just something different about the holidays. I think it’s because of the traditions.

From throwing glitter and oats in the snow for the reindeer, to putting sprinkles and frosting on Cherrios…er, I mean Elf donuts for the Elves, to reading T’was the Night Before Christmas—all the little touches to every year that renew a sense of peace, hope, and love.

It’s the joy of the Christmas stress….

So what do I have for you on this stop of the Mid Winters Eve Blog Hop hosted by Bookhounds?

A free eBook copy of my novel In the Land of Gold set during the 1897 Klondike Gold Rush!

 

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Cora Colton can’t believe she even doubts saying yes to Christopher Payton’s proposal. From a good family, wealthy, and charming, Christopher is perfect for her. However, seeing his band of gold and diamonds, she hesitates. Something is missing, something is wrong, but she just doesn’t know what that something is.

After her father’s sudden death, Cora travels to Tacoma and learns that she is now the owner of his gold claim in Dawson City, Canada. Throwing caution to the wind, she leaves her engagement ring on the table, and departs for Canada and the adventure of a lifetime.

Arriving in the canvas tent town of Skagway on the Klondike trail, Coral catches the attention of Flynn O’Neill, an Irishman who has lived on the trail, guiding stampeeders for a few years. A bond thrusts them together, but their pasts could be what tears them apart—if they can survive the hardships and death on the trail to the land of gold.

“So what’re yeh hiding from?” A deep voice with a heavy Irish accent, from behind me somewhere, invaded my thoughts.

“I beg your pardon?” Turning to face the speaker, I spun a little too far in the chair, and the room pitched and rolled.

The unshaved ruggedness of the stranger’s chiseled jaw line exaggerated his perfect, broad smile. In my whiskey-induced haze, his devilish grin nearly knocked me off my stool.

With piercing, dark brown eyes, and black messy hair, his utter deliciousness captivated me.

“What’re yeh hiding from?”

Not in the mood for casual conversation, I desired nothing more than to tell him to leave me alone. To shout at him for approaching a woman he didn’t know and asking such a ridiculous, personal question, but the coy, seduction in his voice stopped me. He left me breathless, and for a brief second, the absurd thought of kissing him crossed my mind—annoying me even more.

What is wrong with me? I can’t kiss a stranger. I’m a betrothed woman.

“What sort of a question is that?” I asked.

“Apparently, one yeh don’t want to answer,” the Irishman laughed as he sat on the barstool next to mine. “Only two different types of women walk into a bar and get drunk within the first five minutes. One type is looking for male company,” he paused and gave me a wink. “And the other is hiding from something she doesn’t want to face.”

“I’m not drunk,” I snapped. “And, I’m not the sort of woman who is looking for male company.”

He laughed again. “No, I didn’t think yeh were.” He leaned in to whisper the last word, and the gentle roll in his voice over the letter ‘r’ sent a chill down my spine.

“I’m an engaged woman.”

“Are yeh now? Well he’s a fortunate lad, then. Isn’t he?” the Irishman glanced over one shoulder and then the other. “I’d love to meet him.”

I cleared my throat. “He’s not here.”

“And, here I thought most men wouldn’t be too keen on their fiancée coming into a bar late at night all by herself.”

“He doesn’t know I’m here.”

My cheeks flushed, burning with embarrassment.

Why on earth did I just say that?

The Irishman smirked and glanced at me out of the corner of his eye. His expression amused.

“So, what’re yeh hiding from?”

Don’t forget to check out all the fabulous blogs on this hop!

12 Days of Christmas Giveaway #romance #bloghop #amreading #giveaway

It’s nearing Christmas and I’m so excited! I’ve been in that “magical time of year” haze. Especially since putting up our Christmas tree.

For those of you who don’t know my most favorite thing to do during the holidays is writing by the light of my Christmas tree.

Each morning in December, I get up really early while everyone is asleep, turn on the tree lights, and nestle in my couch with a cup of hot chocolate—laced with a peppermint stick, of course—in my hand and my computer in lap.

It’s such a blissful time.

December is the most favorite time I spend with my craft, a time like no other, no matter the month, season, or holiday. I don’t know how to explain it, but there is just something different about sitting in the shadows of such a timeless symbol and elegant reminder of the innocence of Christmas.

The red, blue, green, and yellow lights reflecting off the tinsel brings, not only an inner peace I don’t know if I could justify with simple words, but memories of Christmas’s long since passed. Unwrapping gifts as a child from family and friends, decorating the tree year after year, and now watching the spirit and magic of Christmas in the eyes of my daughters.

Merry-merry-christmas-kraucik83-17692146-1024-768With each passing year, more and more homemade ornaments fill the pine scented branches of our yearly tree, bringing more memories that will last throughout the years just as much as the ones they join. Nearly all of the ornaments on my tree are the same ones I put on the each of the trees growing up. Old Hallmark ones with the years 1988 and 1989 written on them. Handmade ones my Grandmother stitched and stuffed when my mom was a child and money was tight. Ones I made as a young child in school, and now ones my daughter has made. It’s funny how a badly painted ball by a two year old or a Styrofoam star covered in glitter can melt your heart.

In less than a couple of weeks, I will take each of the ornaments down, boxing them up for another year. I will miss them as I am not ready to let go of Christmas just yet. I feel this way every year, and this year is no different. Of course with the end of Christmas comes the last holiday of this season. Our time to celebrate 2018 is just around the corner—another year of everyday life and another year of counting down the days until I can write by the soft glow again.

So what do I have for you on this stop of the 12 Days of Christmas Giveaway Blog Hop hosted by Stuck in Books?

A free eBook copy of my novel In the Land of Gold set during the 1897 Klondike Gold Rush!

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Cora Colton can’t believe she even doubts saying yes to Christopher Payton’s proposal. From a good family, wealthy, and charming, Christopher is perfect for her. However, seeing his band of gold and diamonds, she hesitates. Something is missing, something is wrong, but she just doesn’t know what that something is.

After her father’s sudden death, Cora travels to Tacoma and learns that she is now the owner of his gold claim in Dawson City, Canada. Throwing caution to the wind, she leaves her engagement ring on the table, and departs for Canada and the adventure of a lifetime.

Arriving in the canvas tent town of Skagway on the Klondike trail, Coral catches the attention of Flynn O’Neill, an Irishman who has lived on the trail, guiding stampeeders for a few years. A bond thrusts them together, but their pasts could be what tears them apart—if they can survive the hardships and death on the trail to the land of gold.

“So what’re yeh hiding from?” A deep voice with a heavy Irish accent, from behind me somewhere, invaded my thoughts.

“I beg your pardon?” Turning to face the speaker, I spun a little too far in the chair, and the room pitched and rolled.

The unshaved ruggedness of the stranger’s chiseled jaw line exaggerated his perfect, broad smile. In my whiskey-induced haze, his devilish grin nearly knocked me off my stool.

With piercing, dark brown eyes, and black messy hair, his utter deliciousness captivated me.

“What’re yeh hiding from?”

Not in the mood for casual conversation, I desired nothing more than to tell him to leave me alone. To shout at him for approaching a woman he didn’t know and asking such a ridiculous, personal question, but the coy, seduction in his voice stopped me. He left me breathless, and for a brief second, the absurd thought of kissing him crossed my mind—annoying me even more.

What is wrong with me? I can’t kiss a stranger. I’m a betrothed woman.

“What sort of a question is that?” I asked.

“Apparently, one yeh don’t want to answer,” the Irishman laughed as he sat on the barstool next to mine. “Only two different types of women walk into a bar and get drunk within the first five minutes. One type is looking for male company,” he paused and gave me a wink. “And the other is hiding from something she doesn’t want to face.”

“I’m not drunk,” I snapped. “And, I’m not the sort of woman who is looking for male company.”

He laughed again. “No, I didn’t think yeh were.” He leaned in to whisper the last word, and the gentle roll in his voice over the letter ‘r’ sent a chill down my spine.

“I’m an engaged woman.”

“Are yeh now? Well he’s a fortunate lad, then. Isn’t he?” the Irishman glanced over one shoulder and then the other. “I’d love to meet him.”

I cleared my throat. “He’s not here.”

“And, here I thought most men wouldn’t be too keen on their fiancée coming into a bar late at night all by herself.”

“He doesn’t know I’m here.”

My cheeks flushed, burning with embarrassment.

Why on earth did I just say that?

The Irishman smirked and glanced at me out of the corner of his eye. His expression amused.

“So, what’re yeh hiding from?”

Don’t forget to check out all the fabulous blogs on this hop!

Debut Novel, Take Two #writing #amwriting #romance #historicalromance

I started my debut novel, The Woman on the Painted Horse, on September 18, 2009 (Wow, eight years? Where has the time gone?), and while I still have three years left in my contract with Soul Mate Publishing for it, I’d be lying if I didn’t say that I wasn’t already thinking about what to do with it when the day comes that I get my rights back.

Will I pull it from the market completely? Will I republish it without any changes? Or will I give it a overhaul including another round of revisions, added chapters, more to the ending, and another couple of rounds with an editor?

I have to admit that the first thought has crossed my mind a few times. Why I don’t know. I still love the story and the characters and I think there is a place for it in this world—even if a few bad reviews say otherwise. However, by the time I get my rights back, the novel will be six years old.

But is that as really old as I think it is? Perhaps with a new coat of fresh paint (a new cover) and some remodeling and redecorating (revisions and edits), I could have a second edition that would outshine the first. Wouldn’t that be great?

Over the last few weeks I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about what I want to add to the novel: a few more chapters about the slave running and a better climax ending are just the start. I also know of a few problems the novel has and that need fixing, bad habits that I’ve overcome since the time I was a newbie, as well as cliché endings to chapters that need to go. Along with those, I know that a few plot points need to be flushed out a bit more too.

I suppose to think of pulling it completely was a foolish idea. I don’t really want to do that. I want it out there for people to love (and even hate, I suppose). And I know I don’t want to just republish it as it is. I know it needs work. So I guess on that note, I’m going to revise and republish. I have to say that I’m really growing excited about diving back into this novel and creating something better for it. I worked on it for four long years and I’ve learned so much since then.

I still have three years (although, I suppose in six short months it will be down to two years) before I get my rights back, so I have until March 19, 2020 to execute what I have planned. Since I’m already stretched for writing time, I guess I better get on the ball! Peace out, darling followers! *wink wink*

    

Gratitude Giveaway #bloghop #romance #rodanandfields #historical #amreading

Welcome to my stop on the Gratitude Giveaway Blog Hop hosted by Bookhounds!

This year, and every year, I am thankful for not only my family and friends, but for all of you who follow and support me! Thank you so much!

So, up for grabs on my stop on this hop is a free eBook copy of my novel and a 2017 Winner of a Crowned Heart of Excellence Award from InD’tale Magazine, As the Liquor Flows.

 

But wait, there is more!!!

Recently, I’ve become a consultant for Rodan + Fields®. (See Before and After Pictures)

Rodan + Fields® is redefining the future of anti-aging skincare. Founded by Dr. Katie Rodan and Dr. Kathy Fields, world-renowned dermatologists. We are a premium skincare brand built on a legacy of innovative dermatology-inspired skincare products backed by clinical results.

So in celebration of my new business adventure, I thought I would add in a FREE bottle of the ESSENTIALS™ Daily Body Moisturizer (Retail Value $26.00) along with the free book! I personally use this treatment and I love it!

Feel refreshed all day long with naturally moisturized, calm skin from head to toe. ESSENTIALS™ Daily Body Moisturizer features our RF-Dcell technology to calm skin from climate-induced stressors, humectants to moisturize dry skin and Dimethicone to help condition the skin’s natural moisture barrier. This lightweight, non-greasy formula absorbs quickly to soften skin and keep you feeling smooth from morning to night.

INTERESTED IN MORE OF THEIR PRODUCTS?

Message me through FACEBOOK today!

Don’t forget to check out the other stops after entering the giveaway! The list is posted below.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Black Tuesday, October 29, 1929,

the day the stock market crashed,

and the day Evelyn Ford will never forget.

With the untimely death of her parents and the loss of their only income, Evelyn, and her brother, Frank flee to a make-shift hovel built in Central Park.

After Frank mysteriously goes missing, bare cupboards force Evelyn to seek employment anywhere she can find work, even if that means working at a burlesque theater.

Catching the attention of Don Vincent Giovanni, a Kingpin in the New York mafia, Evelyn discovers that Frank is serving time in prison for running hooch and he owes Vincent a lot of money. In order to pay off her brother’s debt, Evelyn is thrown into the world of mobsters and bootlegging.

Between running hooch all over the city of New York and trying to save her brother, Evelyn finds herself drawn to Max Catalano, Vincent’s Consigliere. Even with secrets of his own, he’s the only one she can trust when she entangles herself in the middle of the New York mafia crime wars.

I opened the box and a circle of sparkling diamonds glistened in the dim light of the hallway. A perfect necklace of crystal-clear jewels the size of peas with a centered diamond the size of a peanut. Fortune in a box that now trembled in my hand.

“Oooh.” The sound proved more of a gasp from my lips than an actual word.

“Turn around,” Max whispered as he grasped the box from me. The intense coffee color in his eyes caught my breath, calming, and yet, unnerving my mind.

I slowly spun away from him and closed my eyes.

Pop.

The sound from the box slapping shut caused me to flinch, and I opened my eyes as his hands lowered in front of me, draping the necklace against my skin.

His fingers tickled the back of my neck while he fastened the clasp. His touch shocked through me and as he stood mere inches behind me, his hot breath breezed across my bare shoulders.

My heart fluttered while the necklace lay against my collarbone. The gold and diamonds hung with an unexpected heaviness.

Max moved around me. “They look stunning on you.”

“Thank you.”

“But then again, I suppose anything would. You’ve been quite the topic downstairs. Everyone wants to know who the mysterious young lady is that Vincent is parading around on his arm.” He paused and clicked his tongue against his lips. “Don’t say that I blame them. I’d want to know, too.”

“Mysterious? No one has ever thought of me as mysterious.”

“I do.”

“Well I have no idea why you would.”

“Is it not obvious to you?”

“What?”

“Not one woman has ever rebuffed Vinny’s affections. They fall to his feet. They desire him because of his clout or because of his money. They are excited when in his company. They love when other women envy them. They’re thrilled, they’re in love, and they gush. And you don’t do any of that.”

A soft laugh snorted through my nose. “Sounds like I’m foolish, instead of mysterious.”

“I’m trained to read people like books.” He heaved a deep sigh. “But with you . . . you’re just like no other book.”

Don’t forget to check out the other wonderful stops on this blog hop!

 

Super Stocking Stuffer #bloghop #romance #historicalromance #mobsters #giveaway #rodanandfields

Each year one of Amazon’s top gifts given is a new Kindle. And what goes best on Kindles?

Books! Yay for the book! That fabulous escape from the daily grind of chores and motherhood . . . at least it is in my house. Of course, while I don’t get a lot of time to read each day, I take what I can, when I can. Even if it’s 10 minutes at night right before I fall asleep.

So, what do I have for you on this stop of the Super Stocking Stuffer Blog Hop hosted by The Kids Did It and The Mommy Island?

Up for grabs is a free eBook copy of my novel, and a 2017 Winner of a Crowned Heart of Excellence Award from InD’tale Magazine, As the Liquor Flows set in New York in 1929 during the Great Depression and prohibition era.

But wait, there is more!!!

Recently, I’ve become a consultant for Rodan + Fields®. (See Before and After Pictures)

Rodan + Fields® is redefining the future of anti-aging skincare. Founded by Dr. Katie Rodan and Dr. Kathy Fields, world-renowned dermatologists. We are a premium skincare brand built on a legacy of innovative dermatology-inspired skincare products backed by clinical results.

So in celebration of my new business adventure, I thought I would add in a FREE bottle of the ESSENTIALS™ Daily Body Moisturizer (Retail Value $26.00) along with the free book! I personally use this treatment and I love it!

Feel refreshed all day long with naturally moisturized, calm skin from head to toe. ESSENTIALS™ Daily Body Moisturizer features our RF-Dcell technology to calm skin from climate-induced stressors, humectants to moisturize dry skin and Dimethicone to help condition the skin’s natural moisture barrier. This lightweight, non-greasy formula absorbs quickly to soften skin and keep you feeling smooth from morning to night.

INTERESTED IN MORE OF THEIR PRODUCTS?

Message me through FACEBOOK today! 

Don’t forget to check out the other stops after entering the giveaway! The list is posted below.

a Rafflecopter giveaway
</script

Black Tuesday, October 29, 1929,

the day the stock market crashed,

and the day Evelyn Ford will never forget.

With the untimely death of her parents and the loss of their only income, Evelyn, and her brother, Frank flee to a make-shift hovel built in Central Park.

After Frank mysteriously goes missing, bare cupboards force Evelyn to seek employment anywhere she can find work, even if that means working at a burlesque theater.

Catching the attention of Don Vincent Giovanni, a Kingpin in the New York mafia, Evelyn discovers that Frank is serving time in prison for running hooch and he owes Vincent a lot of money. In order to pay off her brother’s debt, Evelyn is thrown into the world of mobsters and bootlegging.

Between running hooch all over the city of New York and trying to save her brother, Evelyn finds herself drawn to Max Catalano, Vincent’s Consigliere. Even with secrets of his own, he’s the only one she can trust when she entangles herself in the middle of the New York mafia crime wars.

I opened the box and a circle of sparkling diamonds glistened in the dim light of the hallway. A perfect necklace of crystal-clear jewels the size of peas with a centered diamond the size of a peanut. Fortune in a box that now trembled in my hand.

“Oooh.” The sound proved more of a gasp from my lips than an actual word.

“Turn around,” Max whispered as he grasped the box from me. The intense coffee color in his eyes caught my breath, calming, and yet, unnerving my mind.

I slowly spun away from him and closed my eyes.

Pop.

The sound from the box slapping shut caused me to flinch, and I opened my eyes as his hands lowered in front of me, draping the necklace against my skin.

His fingers tickled the back of my neck while he fastened the clasp. His touch shocked through me and as he stood mere inches behind me, his hot breath breezed across my bare shoulders.

My heart fluttered while the necklace lay against my collarbone. The gold and diamonds hung with an unexpected heaviness.

Max moved around me. “They look stunning on you.”

“Thank you.”

“But then again, I suppose anything would. You’ve been quite the topic downstairs. Everyone wants to know who the mysterious young lady is that Vincent is parading around on his arm.” He paused and clicked his tongue against his lips. “Don’t say that I blame them. I’d want to know, too.”

“Mysterious? No one has ever thought of me as mysterious.”

“I do.”

“Well I have no idea why you would.”

“Is it not obvious to you?”

“What?”

“Not one woman has ever rebuffed Vinny’s affections. They fall to his feet. They desire him because of his clout or because of his money. They are excited when in his company. They love when other women envy them. They’re thrilled, they’re in love, and they gush. And you don’t do any of that.”

A soft laugh snorted through my nose. “Sounds like I’m foolish, instead of mysterious.”

“I’m trained to read people like books.” He heaved a deep sigh. “But with you . . . you’re just like no other book.”

Don’t forget to check out the other wonderful stops on this blog hop!

(Host) The Kids Did It – Grand Prize Package – US 34. Mom To Grandma – WW 67. The Homespun Chics – US
2. (Host) The Mommy Island – Grand Prize Package – US 35. On Honeysuckle Hill – US/CAN 68. A Petite Mama – US
3. (VIP) Still Blonde after all these YEARS – $159 Nugeni Steamer – US 36. Celebrate Woman Today – US 69. Wishful Endings – US
4. (VIP) Coupons and Freebies Mom – $10 Amazon Gift Card – US 37. Mythical Books – WW 70. Freesocial2011 – US
5. (VIP) Broken Teepee – $100 GC to JORD Watches and $25 PayPal – US 38. Reading Reality – WW 71. SimplyMombailey – US/CAN
6. (VIP) Luv Saving Money – $25 Libre Tea Infuser – US 39. Doodles, doodles everywhere – US 72. Author J.D. Wright – WW
7. (VIP) Aging Like a Fine Wine – $135 Children’s Books & Minion game/toy – US 40. Imperfect Women – WW 73. Three Moore Boys – US
8. (VIP) Simply Sherryl – $50 – 2 Mermaid Tail Blankets – US 41. Utterly Amazing – US 74. Sabrina’s Musings – US/CAN
9. (VIP) Way 2 Good Life – $50 Treasure Box Puzzle – US 42. Laurali’s Blog – US 75. Angie’s Angle – US
10. (VIP) Zombie Parenting – $75 LEAP! Prize Package – US 43. Tammie’s Reviews, Giveaways and More – US 76. A Modern Day Fairy Tale – US
11. FROG Reviews and Ramblings – US 44. Susie’s Reviews and Giveaways – US 77. Woven by Words – US
12. Tizzy Says – US 45. Author Joan Holub – US 78. Parenting Healthy – US
13. Rita Reviews – US 46. Tom’s Take On Things – US/CAN 79. Lindsey Blogs at SEBG – US
14. Freebies Deals & Steals – WW 47. Oh My Mommy – US 80. My Crafty Zoo – US
15. My Silly Little Gang – US 48. Lynchburg Mama – US 81. Words Are Timeless – US
16. Batch of Books – US 49. Mommy Knows What’s Best – US 82. Mom The Magnificent – US
17. Savings in Seconds – US 50. JeanBookNerd – WW 83. Says Me Says Mom – WW
18. Box Roundup – US 51. Trisha Dishes – US 84. The Jersey Momma – US
19. The Monarch Mommy – CAN 52. Sharing Life’s Moments – US 85. Wrapped Up N U – US
20. Queens NYC Mom – US 53. It’s Free At Last – WW 86. The Attic Girl – US
21. Parenting In Progress – US 54. Three Boys and an Old Lady – US 87. Literary Meanderings – WW
22. Literary Winner – US 55. Reviewz & Newz – US 88. Still Blonde after all these YEARS – US
23. Here We Go Again Ready – US 56. The Candid Cover – WW 89. Diary of a Working Mom – WW
24. icefairy’s Treasure Chest – US 57. Java John Z’s – US 90. How Was Your Day? – US
25. Gypsy Road – US 58. Of Learning and Nesting – WW 91. Heck Of A Bunch – US
26. Finding Sanity In Our Crazy Life – WW 59. Kerrific Online – US 92. In The Know With JoJo – US
27. Miss Molly Says – US 60. Confessions of a Frugal Mind – US 93. Readeropolis – WW
28. Nanny to Mommy – US 61. Comeback Momma – WW 94. Practical Frugality – US/CAN
29. Deal Sharing Aunt – US 62. Hollybee Tells – US 95. Chrisy Beasons World – US
30. 3 Partners in Shopping – US 63. Homeschool Insights – US 96. I Dream Of Color – US
31. Christy’s Cozy Corners – WW 64. B is 4 – US 97. Modern Day Gramma – US
32. Sweet Southern Savings – US 65. Art and Tree Chatter – WW
33. Mommy’s Playbook – US 66. Mom Does Reviews – WW

 

As kids we loved Pirates #author #writing #amwriting #bookpiracy #piratebooks

Growing up, we always had that romantic notion of a pirate. Even if a lot of movies depicted them as thieves and the bad guys, there was always that mysterious allure of the sword-swinging, treasure hunting pirate.

And then, of course, Hollywood saw fit to give us cast of characters like Orlando Bloom as Will Turner and Jonny Depp as Capitan Jack Sparrow, which didn’t help either . . .

Okay, so before you drool all over your keyboard, let me get back to my point. Which is unfortunate, I must say, considering I know you won’t think my point is as delicious of a subject.

I’m talking about book piracy.

Yuck. Boo. Hiss. Get back to Orlando Bloom please.

Yeah, I know. Believe me.

However, while I’d love to indulge you, I can’t. This is kind of a serious matter, and one that needs our full attention.

A few weeks ago I came across this post from author Eliza Knight on her Facebook page. Of course, I wasn’t surprised to see an author ranting over book piracy. I was, however, shocked at what she had to say on the subject.

“I’ve said it before, but I’m going to say it again, because my assistant sent me a horrifying email this morning…I subscribed to a new anti-piracy software, Blasty, a couple days ago. Today she gave me the number of copyright infringements on my work she found online. Are you ready for the number? Because I’m not sure I’M READY and I’ve already seen it. 1,182,709Yes, one million one hundred eighty two thousand seven hundred nine. Over a million times my books have been stolen. I am sick. I am horrified. 4K was scary — over a million?!?!? This is stealing! This is ILLEGAL. Readers, an author’s work, my work, whether its a short story or book, is available for sale at reputable retail sites like Amazon, iTunes, Kobo and Nook/B&N. Occasionally, I have sales, or give away books for free. But if you find my work, or ANY AUTHOR’S WORK, for sale or free at a site that is not one of the one’s above, chances are it IS STOLEN. They will steal your information when you download. They are thieves. That is their business. Protect yourselves. Protect authors. JUST SAY NO TO PIRACY!”

1,1821,709 times!

Are you kidding me?

If my books were stolen that many times (well the ones published with my publisher because of the royalty percent difference) that is the equivalent of $413,948.15 dollars.

Do you know what you would do with $413,948.15 dollars? Because I sure do.

To make it even worse, if I were to take that number times my royalties under my own house, the amount is even more . . . coming in at a whopping $1,265,498.63!

That’s called retirement. And it’s all been stolen.

So what can we do about this? I’m afraid that in all the research I’ve done on the subject, I haven’t found a single solution. Pirate sites will still continue to pop up, review sites will still sell the ARC PDF’s that authors give them (without the authors permission), and more disgustingly, readers will still think they that it’s utterly acceptable to steal our books.

The only true thing we can do is fight as much as we can. Share pirate sites with other authors when we find them so we can join together to shut them down. Educate people that it’s stealing and press the importance of buying books ethically. We can also band together to bring down review sites that aren’t legit and who sell ARCs.

A little over three years ago I wrote a letter To People who Pirate Books and still to this day the words ring with absolute truth.

This is a big problem, and we need to stand together to help fight it.

I’m still waiting for the copyright infringement numbers to come in for my novels. While Blasty is a good, reputable site, it takes several months, unless you want to pay the one time fee. My results should be in around the middle of December (Merry Christmas to me! UGH!).

Of course, I don’t think they will be as high as Ms. Knight; however, having gone through a round with Instafreebie and Shifted Sheets Promotion, where I gave away 500 PDF copies of my novels, I’m still scared. How many of those people sold their copies? I know they weren’t all readers interested in reading and reviewing the novel as they were asked to do, so why else download unless they had evil intent? And just because there was a “protection” on the documents doesn’t meant that it won’t be sold. As you can tell, I’m not very trusting when it comes to people and free stuff anymore. I’ve been burned . . . several times.

So followers, how are you battling against book piracy?

    

 

Welcome Carrie! #paranormalromance #romance #amreading #author

Carrie Pulkinen is a paranormal romance author who has always been fascinated with things that go bump in the night.

Of course, when you grow up next door to a cemetery, the dead (and the undead) are hard to ignore. Pair that with her passion for writing and her love of a good happily-ever-after, and becoming a paranormal romance author seems like the only logical career choice.

Before she decided to turn her love of the written word into a career, Carrie spent the first part of her professional life as a high school journalism and yearbook teacher.

She loves red wine and chocolate, and in her free time, she likes to read, take pictures, and spend time with her family.

For more information on Carrie and her available titles, visit her WEBSITE or other social media outlets.

Trent’s heart may belong to Tina, but a shadow demon is after his soul.

Trent Austin is a successful, big-city lawyer. The last thing he needs is the burden of a run-down house in the suburbs. But when his crazy uncle dies and leaves his estate to Trent, he soon learns he’s inherited a lot more than a Victorian mansion. He’s got to get rid of the house—and the ghosts that came with it—before it kills him.

Tina Sanders is the best real estate agent in Michigan, so she shouldn’t be surprised when Trent calls her to sell his uncle’s house. But she hasn’t spoken to Trent since she dumped him three months ago. Her fear of commitment forced her to sideline Trent to the friend-zone, but the flames rekindle as soon as she sees him again. Despite her better judgement, she accepts the job and soon discovers her connection to the house runs deeper than the sexy lawyer who owns it.

Something in that house wants Trent dead. As he battles to win the affections of the sultry real estate agent, he’s also fighting for his life.

He gazed at her with a strange intensity, his dark eyes pulling her in. She felt herself sway toward him, and she couldn’t stop. Sitting here with Trent, in this living room, in this house…everything about the moment felt right. If she kissed him again, she’d have to mean it this time. There’d be no turning back. If her lips touched his one more time, she’d have to be sure she was in it for good. She could be in it for good, couldn’t she?

His gaze slid to her mouth, and he smiled. “Logan and Allison will be here at one.” He shot to his feet and pulled his phone from his pocket. “Want to order a pizza while we wait? I’m starving.”

Damn. She sat up straight and brushed her hair from her shoulder. “Sure. Sounds great.”

“All the meats?”

“Is there any other kind?”

He grinned and punched in the order. “You’re my kind of girl.”

Her heart fluttered. “Am I?”

“I mean…We have similar tastes. We like the same kind of food. The way you decorated this place is perfect.” He shrugged and slipped the phone into his pocket. “We get along. I guess that’s what I mean.”

She tried to hide her disappointment with a smile. “Yeah, we do.”

“When one of us isn’t trying to kiss the other one.”

She stood and stepped toward to him. “The kissing was nice though.” So nice, she might like to do it again. Who was she kidding? She needed to do it again.

He stepped back. “Meh. It was okay.”

She paused, about to be offended, but the playfulness in his eyes made her laugh. “Meh? Did you just call me a meh kisser?”

He winked. “I said the kiss was meh. Not that you were.”

She fisted her hands on her hips. “That sounds like a challenge to me, and I never back down from a challenge. You want a wow kiss? I can show you a wow kiss.”

“I’m sure you could.” He bumped his shoulder to hers as he sauntered past her to the kitchen. “Too bad we’re just friends.”

Too bad, indeed.    

Welcome Linda! #romance #amreading #amreadingromance

O’Connor started writing a few years ago when she needed a creative outlet other than subtly rearranging the displays at the local home décor store. It turns out she loves writing romance comedies and has a few more stories to tell.

When not writing, she’s a physician at an Urgent Care Clinic (well, even when she is writing she’s a physician, and it shows up in her stories). *wink wink*

And her favorite motto: Laugh every day. Love every minute.

For more information on Linda and her novels, you can visit her WEBSITE and subscribe to her NEWSLETTER.

Perfectly Crazy in Love.

It is one of 22 hot romances in the Sultry Nights Boxed Set.

Preorder now for only $.99!! Release day is November 7th.

Dr. Patty Kelt is trying to get Dr. Ken Marshall’s attention. They’ve been friends for four years, and it’s time to turn it up a notch. She wants him to see her as smart, competent, strong, and sexy. So far she’s just managed crazy.

Ken’s used to solving problems and giving advice. Crazy he could handle. But dealing with crazy in love? That’s entirely new.

Perfectly Crazy in Love…it’s not as easy as it looks.

ROMANCE COLLECTIONS    |    PRONOUN
Buy links:
AMAZON    |   KOBO   |   GOOGLE PLAY   |   iTUNES   |   BARNES&NOBLE

Spooktachular #Giveaway Blog Hop #halloween #writing #amwriting #romance #paranormal

Halloween is only a couple of weeks away and I can’t wait to take the kids trick-or-treating! While for some the “holiday season” is only Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Years (or perhaps just Christmas), for me, my holiday season starts with Halloween.

It’s been no secret on this website that October, November, and December are my favorite months. I just LOVE, LOVE, LOVE the beauty of Fall, and I am so ready to finish this year out! Of course, with that comes the blah of winter with no holidays to look forward to, but I’m not going to think about that right now.

So what do I have for this stop on the Spooktachular Blog Hop hosted by Bookhounds?

To celebrate the holiday of ghosts, witches, and all things scary (even though I Love Halloween, Hate Scary things and my novel isn’t a dark historical or paranormal), I’m giving away one eBook copy of my sweet/clean historical romance with paranormal elements, When the Black Roses Grow, to one winner.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

And don’t forget to check out the other stops on this spooktacular hop!

P.S. Looking for tips on how to save money this Halloween? Follow the LINK for more information.

Twenty-five men and women were accused.
Nineteen hung to their death on Gallow Hills.
One suffocated under bone-crushing stones.
All believed to possess the power of witchcraft.

In 1692 the fear of witchcraft is spreading around Salem Village. While those who are accused and sentenced face death, everyone else faces the risk of accusations placed upon them.

As Emmalynn Hawthorne, the daughter of a woman hung for witchcraft, places a bouquet of flowers upon her mother’s grave, a circle of black roses sprouts out of thin air. Dark magic, the roses strike fear through her heart when Mary Pruett and the handsome newcomer, James DeKane, spy upon her as they pass along the traveling road. Emmalynn flees and her panic soon turns into terror as another vine of black roses sprouts and grows throughout the inside of her home. Is she a witch? Will she be the next accused?

James DeKane has secrets of his own—ones that could prove deadly for him and anyone he holds dear. At fault for the untimely death of his parents, he must protect his hidden brother and dying sister, all while fearing that the haunting prophecy bestowed upon him at birth will come to pass. Desperate and fighting the monster deep inside of him, he’s searching for the one love who can alter his destiny.

A dark green vine whispered for my attention. It appeared in the corner—the stem grew quickly from my floorboards, growing a few inches every passing second. Smaller vines sprouted from the first, curling in all directions, and a few leaves grew from the stems, popping outward and bouncing a little from their sudden burst of movement.

I flung my arms—the sudden jerk of my body sent my rump slamming hard onto the floor. My hand slapped across my mouth to hide my scream as the dark magic fluttered through the air in a teasing and taunting dance, waving its leaves as if to scold me for my sins.

I scrambled to my feet, and grabbed the handle of the pot, not caring that the hot piece of the wire burned the palm of my hand. I shoved the back door open. It collided with the outside wall of the house as I shoved the pot through the doorway and cast the iron flying through the air. It plunged to the grass, landing with a loud bong.

I slammed the door, raced to my chopping block, and grabbed the large knife laying on the cutting board.

If I cut it, it will wither and die. Tis nothing more than a weed, a simple weed, and if I cut it, it will wither and die.

My heels slid across the floor slowly. Hesitation stirred in my blood, and my hands trembled as I hovered over the vine.

The familiar green vine I had seen before…floating over my mother’s grave.

In a bold, swift swipe, I slashed the stem. The green color turned into a deep black, and the vine shriveled and vanished.

My rump hit the floor, and curled my legs up into my chest. My heart pounded in panic. My lungs heaved. The thought of moving, even an inch, overwhelmed me.

Please do not return. Please do not return.

I sat upon the floor, trying desperately to control my breathing and slow my rapid heartbeat. The anxiety of needing to calm myself immediately only made me want to crawl out of my own skin even more.

Please, Lord, do not allow it to return. Please.

I finally heaved myself up off the floor onto my knees, and slowly placed one foot on the floor, rose, and placed the other foot down.

Please, Lord, plea—

Another vine sprouted before my eyes.

Clunk.

The knife slipped from my fingers, landing on the floor with a thud and bounced a couple of times. The green vine reappeared, curling through the air once again. Leaves sprung from the stem, waving just as the others had done. The vine’s growth as short-lived as it sprouted fully, larger than before.

My mind whirled out of control, lost in a sea of unexplainable reasons and sheer terror. Shadows closed in all around me with one single wave of panic I did not know if I could withstand.

A knock gently rapped against by back door. I spun on my heel, and covered my mouth. Surely, t’was nightfall, surely, the sun had set, giving way to the darkness for its evening slumber. The only expected visitors were the ones invited, and I certainly did not invite anyone over to my home.

Another knock rapped, this time a little harder than the first, and I tiptoed over to the door.

“Who is there?” My voice cracked on the last word.

“T’is James DeKane.”

Don’t forget to visit the other stops on this wonderful hop!

Howl-O-Ween Blog Hop #bloghop #Halloween #AllHallowsEve #paranormal #romance

Halloween is only a couple of weeks away and I can’t wait to take the kids trick-or-treating! While for some the “holiday season” is only Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Years (or perhaps just Christmas), for me, my holiday season starts with Halloween.

It’s been no secret on this website that October, November, and December are my favorite months. I just LOVE, LOVE, LOVE the beauty of Fall, and I am so ready to finish this year out! Of course, with that comes the blah of winter with no holidays to look forward to, but I’m not going to think about that right now.

So what do I have for this stop on the Howl-O-Ween Blog Hop hosted by The Mommy Island and The Kids Did It.

To celebrate the holiday of ghosts, witches, and all things scary (even though I Love Halloween, Hate Scary things and my novel isn’t a dark historical or paranormal), I’m giving away one eBook copy of my sweet/clean historical romance with paranormal elements, When the Black Roses Grow, to one winner.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

And don’t forget to check out the other stops on this hop!

P.S. Looking for tips on how to save money this Halloween? Follow the LINK for more information. Also, for those looking for a new site to follow that shares articles on farming, gardening, homesteading, homeschooling, and just being a mom, please follow ARCHER ACRES

Twenty-five men and women were accused.
Nineteen hung to their death on Gallow Hills.
One suffocated under bone-crushing stones.
All believed to possess the power of witchcraft.

In 1692 the fear of witchcraft is spreading around Salem Village. While those who are accused and sentenced face death, everyone else faces the risk of accusations placed upon them.

As Emmalynn Hawthorne, the daughter of a woman hung for witchcraft, places a bouquet of flowers upon her mother’s grave, a circle of black roses sprouts out of thin air. Dark magic, the roses strike fear through her heart when Mary Pruett and the handsome newcomer, James DeKane, spy upon her as they pass along the traveling road. Emmalynn flees and her panic soon turns into terror as another vine of black roses sprouts and grows throughout the inside of her home. Is she a witch? Will she be the next accused?

James DeKane has secrets of his own—ones that could prove deadly for him and anyone he holds dear. At fault for the untimely death of his parents, he must protect his hidden brother and dying sister, all while fearing that the haunting prophecy bestowed upon him at birth will come to pass. Desperate and fighting the monster deep inside of him, he’s searching for the one love who can alter his destiny.

A dark green vine whispered for my attention. It appeared in the corner—the stem grew quickly from my floorboards, growing a few inches every passing second. Smaller vines sprouted from the first, curling in all directions, and a few leaves grew from the stems, popping outward and bouncing a little from their sudden burst of movement.

I flung my arms—the sudden jerk of my body sent my rump slamming hard onto the floor. My hand slapped across my mouth to hide my scream as the dark magic fluttered through the air in a teasing and taunting dance, waving its leaves as if to scold me for my sins.

I scrambled to my feet, and grabbed the handle of the pot, not caring that the hot piece of the wire burned the palm of my hand. I shoved the back door open. It collided with the outside wall of the house as I shoved the pot through the doorway and cast the iron flying through the air. It plunged to the grass, landing with a loud bong.

I slammed the door, raced to my chopping block, and grabbed the large knife laying on the cutting board.

If I cut it, it will wither and die. Tis nothing more than a weed, a simple weed, and if I cut it, it will wither and die.

My heels slid across the floor slowly. Hesitation stirred in my blood, and my hands trembled as I hovered over the vine.

The familiar green vine I had seen before…floating over my mother’s grave.

In a bold, swift swipe, I slashed the stem. The green color turned into a deep black, and the vine shriveled and vanished.

My rump hit the floor, and curled my legs up into my chest. My heart pounded in panic. My lungs heaved. The thought of moving, even an inch, overwhelmed me.

Please do not return. Please do not return.

I sat upon the floor, trying desperately to control my breathing and slow my rapid heartbeat. The anxiety of needing to calm myself immediately only made me want to crawl out of my own skin even more.

Please, Lord, do not allow it to return. Please.

I finally heaved myself up off the floor onto my knees, and slowly placed one foot on the floor, rose, and placed the other foot down.

Please, Lord, plea—

Another vine sprouted before my eyes.

Clunk.

The knife slipped from my fingers, landing on the floor with a thud and bounced a couple of times. The green vine reappeared, curling through the air once again. Leaves sprung from the stem, waving just as the others had done. The vine’s growth as short-lived as it sprouted fully, larger than before.

My mind whirled out of control, lost in a sea of unexplainable reasons and sheer terror. Shadows closed in all around me with one single wave of panic I did not know if I could withstand.

A knock gently rapped against by back door. I spun on my heel, and covered my mouth. Surely, t’was nightfall, surely, the sun had set, giving way to the darkness for its evening slumber. The only expected visitors were the ones invited, and I certainly did not invite anyone over to my home.

Another knock rapped, this time a little harder than the first, and I tiptoed over to the door.

“Who is there?” My voice cracked on the last word.

“T’is James DeKane.”

Don’t forget to check out all the other fabulous blogs on this hop!

(Host) The Kids Did It deal sharing aunt usa It’s Free At Last
(Host) The Mommy Island 3 partners in shopping usa Readeropolis
(VIP) Still Blonde after all these YEARS like Hanna Three Boys and an Old Lady
(VIP) Coupons and Freebies Mom Improve Your Mental Health Homeschool Insights
(VIP) Broken Teepee Lisa-Queen of Random Modern Day Gramma
(VIP) Beautiful Touches PaulaMS’ Giveaways, Reviews, & Freebies Books, Bargains, Blessings
(VIP) Simply Sherryl ML Hamilton Heck Of A Bunch
(VIP) Aging Like A Fine Wine Mommy’s Playbook the Candid Cover (INT)
(VIP) Rockin’ Book Reviews Mom To Grandma In The Know With JoJo
(VIP) Shopping Kim On Honeysuckle Hill The Jersey Momma
Zombie Parenting Celebrate Woman Today Mystylespot
FROG Reviews and Ramblings Leahsay’s Views Belinda Kroll, Books for Kids & Teens
Tizzy Says Author Carrie L. Wells Stacy Tilton Reviews
Lenore Harper Doodles, doodles everywhere (INT) Of Learning and Nesting
Rita Reviews Women and Their Pretties Candid Mama
Freebies, Deals, & Steals Imperfect Women Kerrific Online
My Silly Little Gang Utterly Amazing Java John Z’s
Batch of Books Laurali’s Blog Says Me Says Mom
Reading Reality Tammie’s Reviews, Giveaways and More Confessions of a Frugal Mind
Way 2 Good Life Chrisy’s Cozy Corners Comeback momma
Savings in Seconds Susie’s Reviews and Giveaways B is 4
Box Roundup Author Joan Holub Home Jobs by MOM
The Monarch Mommy Naturalhairlatina CENTRAL BARGAINS AND GIVEAWAYS
Practical Frugality Lynchburg Mama Bargnhtress
Parenting In Progress JeanBookNerd Hip Mama’s Place
Literary Winner Trisha Dishes Art and Tree Chatter
Heartbeats~ Soul Stains The Homespun Chics Erica Ever After
Here We Go Again Ready Shopping Kim Reviewz & Newz
The Silver Dagger Scriptorium Eclectic Evelyn Utterly Amazing
icefairy’s Treasure Chest Ann Again and again Reviews My Crafty Zoo
Gypsy Road Surf, sand and sons Mom Does Reviews
Finding Sanity In Our Crazy Life MYTHICAL BOOKS Angie’s Angle
Miss Molly Says Add Norwegian Lifestyle (Open WW) Garden Dreams Decor
Nanny to Mommy Luv Saving Money A Modern Day Fairy Tale
It’s a Jersey Thing Adult Coloring 101 Angela Christina Archer ~ Author

Welcome Sabrina! #writing #amwriting #author #fantasy #romance

Sabrina A. Fish lives in Oklahoma with her husband, son, and two cats, where she owns a trophy company and collects names for her novels from lists of award’s recipients. She loves all things chocolate and her husband is sweet enough to never let the candy dish near her computer become empty.

She loves and advocates being involved in the local writing community, and is President for the 2018 Oklahoma Writers’ Federation, Inc (OWFI).

She is an annual featured speaker at The Rose State Writing Conference and has been a panelist at Wizard World Comic Con.

Born and raised in Oklahoma, she considers the three years she spent in a Texas high school to be a short trip down the rabbit hole that ended at graduation. She returned to Oklahoma where she received her Bachelor’s degree in      Political Science from the University of Oklahoma. BOOMER SOONER.

When she isn’t writing & promoting her novels or running her company, she can be found reading, scrapbooking, or spending quality time with her family. Visit her WEBSITE for more information.

CLICK HERE TO ENTER FOR THE $25 AMAZON GIFT CARD AND FREE COPIES OF DIOMERE’S EXILE

 

Five Gates. Five Sisters. Five Very Different Men.

Once there were two worlds connected by five magical gates. Then the Gate Keepers closed the gates and disappeared. The Gate Keepers have returned.

Nadia de Quinones was exiled when her nephew, the crown-prince was abducted on her watch. She’ll let nothing stand in the way of her redemption, not even discovering her heartbonded and a connection to an ancient magical gate.

Lord Gregor Cyrene is sworn to protect his country’s royal heirs. After the youngest prince’s life is threatened, Gregor sets out to discover who is responsible and suspects the answer lies with Nadia. When fate forces their competing goals to align, neither are prepared for the irresistible attraction between them.

Can they see beyond their pasts and a millennia old hate between their people? Or will they continue to distrust, allowing those plotting against them to win?   

 

 

Playing her part, she bit her bottom lip and looked up at him through her lashes. “Pardon, m’lord. I didn’t mean to mistake you for a running path.”

His low, husky voice caressed her ears, its softness belying strength and control rather than weakness. “If all runners were as beautiful as you, I’d be willing to be the path more often.”

She barely kept from rolling her eyes. Expose a little cleavage or the hint of a curvy figure and men were all the same, the sight of a woman’s face being totally unnecessary to judge beauty. Even had she not been wearing the mask, she knew there was nothing beautiful about her. Too tall and mouthy, she preferred dressing like a Diomerean nobleman rather than the noblewoman she was. Never mind the scar that bisected the left side of her face.

“Thank you, m’lord,” she said, tone dry. She smiled and batted her lashes up at him.

His low chuckle sent a shiver down her spine as he leaned toward her until his breath tickled her ear. “Acting the coy miss isn’t one of your gifts,” he said, his lips grazing her ear, causing an arrow of desire to arc through her body.

She leaned up on her toes, their cheeks only a breath apart, and whispered back. “Insincere flattery is obviously one of yours.”

She caressed his chest, unable to resist the swell of muscle under her palms as she pulled away, chin lifted. Striking amber irises circled in a black outer ring and thick black lashes peeked from the eyes of the mask. Her mind went blank as desire rolled through her, taking her breath. A ripple rolled through the power inside her, like this man had reached in and touched a finger to the still surface of her a’mi. Her smile slipped. You’re acting like Father. Her stomach flipped, threatening to eject her morning meal. She jerked her hands from his chest as if she’d been burned.

He trapped her gaze in his. “Is it not said that flattery makes friends and truth makes enemies?”

Nadia scowled and shoved her a’mi deep.

“Then I’d rather be enemies.” She stepped back and held her hand out in the traditional greeting of her people, rather than the shoulder clasping Thunoans used. His smoldering gaze held a challenge as he slid his palm against hers. His thumb caressed the back of her hand, making her shiver, before he finally pulled his hand back toward his chest, the parchment she’d slipped him tucked between his fingers. The greeting ended with their palms over their hearts. Nadia ignored the heat pooling in her stomach. “The gods keep you, m’lord.”

“Asha’s blessing on you, lady,” he said.

She told herself she clenched her fist because the greeting demanded it, not to hold on to the feel of his skin against hers. Tearing her gaze away, she strode to a nearby vendor’s stall. She smiled at the merchant as she perused his selection of meat pies. Pointing to a small, stuffed pastry, she handed him her coin and glanced over her shoulder. Heated eyes studied her. Her thighs clenched. She frowned and struggled to wrestle back control of her traitorous body. The man tilted his head in a shallow nod, then turned and disappeared into the crowd.

Stuck in a Good Book Giveaway Blog Hop #writing #romance #historical #giveaway #bloghop

While I don’t get much time to read every day, I still always love finding a good book. Sometimes I don’t always have the best luck, but I’m hopeful each time I open one.

So, what do I have for you on this stop of the hop, hosted by Stuck in Books? Up for grabs is a free eBook copy of my novel, As the Liquor Flows. Don’t forget to check out the other stops after entering the giveaway! The list is posted below.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Black Tuesday, October 29, 1929,

the day the stock market crashed,

and the day Evelyn Ford will never forget.

With the untimely death of her parents and the loss of their only income, Evelyn, and her brother, Frank flee to a make-shift hovel built in Central Park.

After Frank mysteriously goes missing, bare cupboards force Evelyn to seek employment anywhere she can find work, even if that means working at a burlesque theater.

Catching the attention of Don Vincent Giovanni, a Kingpin in the New York mafia, Evelyn discovers that Frank is serving time in prison for running hooch and he owes Vincent a lot of money. In order to pay off her brother’s debt, Evelyn is thrown into the world of mobsters and bootlegging.

Between running hooch all over the city of New York and trying to save her brother, Evelyn finds herself drawn to Max Catalano, Vincent’s Consigliere. Even with secrets of his own, he’s the only one she can trust when she entangles herself in the middle of the New York mafia crime wars.

I opened the box and a circle of sparkling diamonds glistened in the dim light of the hallway. A perfect necklace of crystal-clear jewels the size of peas with a centered diamond the size of a peanut. Fortune in a box that now trembled in my hand.

“Oooh.” The sound proved more of a gasp from my lips than an actual word.

“Turn around,” Max whispered as he grasped the box from me. The intense coffee color in his eyes caught my breath, calming, and yet, unnerving my mind.

I slowly spun away from him and closed my eyes.

Pop.

The sound from the box slapping shut caused me to flinch, and I opened my eyes as his hands lowered in front of me, draping the necklace against my skin.

His fingers tickled the back of my neck while he fastened the clasp. His touch shocked through me and as he stood mere inches behind me, his hot breath breezed across my bare shoulders.

My heart fluttered while the necklace lay against my collarbone. The gold and diamonds hung with an unexpected heaviness.

Max moved around me. “They look stunning on you.”

“Thank you.”

“But then again, I suppose anything would. You’ve been quite the topic downstairs. Everyone wants to know who the mysterious young lady is that Vincent is parading around on his arm.” He paused and clicked his tongue against his lips. “Don’t say that I blame them. I’d want to know, too.”

“Mysterious? No one has ever thought of me as mysterious.”

“I do.”

“Well I have no idea why you would.”

“Is it not obvious to you?”

“What?”

“Not one woman has ever rebuffed Vinny’s affections. They fall to his feet. They desire him because of his clout or because of his money. They are excited when in his company. They love when other women envy them. They’re thrilled, they’re in love, and they gush. And you don’t do any of that.”

A soft laugh snorted through my nose. “Sounds like I’m foolish, instead of mysterious.”

“I’m trained to read people like books.” He heaved a deep sigh. “But with you . . . you’re just like no other book.”

Don’t forget to check out the other wonderful stops on this blog hop! 

 

InD’tale Review ~ A Road Paved in Copper #romance #historicalromance #Nevada #mining #amreading

Early September brought in the review I’d been waiting for. I’m happy to say that A Road Paved in Copper received 4 Stars from InD’tale Magazine!

Abandoned at an orphanage as a young girl, Ava De La Vega had little in the way of opportunities. As she grew she learned to thrive in a man’s world, and now is a force to be reckoned with.  Ava owns some of the richest mines in Nevada, which produce gold, silver, and copper. She exists in a world where men are jealous of her success and try to take what she has earned away from her by any means. She lives with a gun, fights like a man, and digs in the holes of the mines. At certain times of the year however, she appreciates the finer things in life: the decadence of San Francisco, fine clothes, and delicious meals. She meets her match in Craig Harrison, a man who has survived the harsh Klondike.

The author draws readers right into a story of the harsh realities of a strong woman making her way in a man’s world in 1903. She paints a vivid picture with dirt, dust, and grime, which brings the story to life. However, there comes a point where there is too much description and it becomes more telling than showing. What the reader will enjoy is Ava, the strong, feisty protagonist with a  passion for life. The reader will be immersed in the old west, the language, the customs, and the difficult choices women had to make back then.