Winter Blogfest: Sean Michael

December 31, 2018 By 6 Comments

This post is part of Long and Short Reviews’ Winter Blogfest. Leave a comment for a chance to win an ebook copy of a book from my backlist – winner’s choice!

I am the cookie Monster!

December rolls around, bringing with it colder weather and very often snow, and of course, Christmas. Along with Halloween, Christmas is my favorite holiday. I love decorating the house – inside and out. I love switching out my dishes – plates, bowls and cups – for Christmas ones. I love shopping for the perfect gifts, and then wrapping those gifts. And I love baking cookies.

I can’t remember how long ago it started, but one year I made four or five different types of cookies, packaged them up and gave them to my folks and my sister. The next year I made a six or seven varieties and added my extended family to the list. The following year there were more kinds of cookies, and I added a few friends to the list. Then even more varieties and some of the neighbors became recipients. Needless to say, it’s become a tradition now.

It begins in November when I start planning. I look through my recipes. I buy magazines with cookie recipes. I plan which cookies I will do again and which new ones I want to try. Perennial favorites include maple cookies, cranberry swirls, egg nog logs (the son’s favorite and though they are a pain to make and I say every year I’m not doing them this year, I still make them because they are the one cookie he asks me to do), chocolate stars, pecan spiced tea cookies, snickerdoodles, white chocolate cranberry cookies, and magic cookies (aka overnight meringues). There’s always a few new ones that I want to try – sometimes they get added to the perennial list, sometimes they are a one off.

Then I plan out my attack. I always do the gluten free cookies first at the beginning of December because we get together early with the extended family and some of them are GF. Then mid-December I make the dough for the ice box cookies because I can do those a few weeks ahead of time and just leave them in the freezer until I am ready to bake them. Then, the week before Christmas, I make all the other cookies, leaving the last day for the ice box cookies, which just need to come out of the freezer, get sliced and baked.

Then I put the cookies together in either baskets or those little holiday themed cardboard boxes that look like take-out boxes, only with holiday patterns on them. Then I deliver the cookies. A regular cookie monster. I even have a sign in my kitchen regarding my Christmas cookie habit!

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Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays and a very wonderful New Year to all!

Is it possible to find the heart’s home twice in a lifetime?

Six years ago, Sawyer Burroughs’s life fell apart. His soul mate and husband of four years died of cancer, and he fell into depression… and a bottle. It’s taken six years, but he’s turned his life around and is ready to start again on the other side of the country.

In his new apartment, he’s welcomed by his young and carefree neighbor, Derek, from across the hall. Derek is eager to make Sawyer feel welcome and even offers him a place to stay when Sawyer arrives ahead of his furniture.

The upstairs neighbors are just as friendly, and soon Sawyer finds a place with the friends-with-benefits threesome. He’s not the shy, vanilla lover they think he is, though, and he’s hiding more than a pair of nipple rings. As it happens, the guys have kinky secrets of their own, but for four men to make a BDSM relationship last, they’ll have to figure some things out.

Best-selling author Sean Michael is a maple leaf–loving Canadian who spends hours hiding out in used book stores. With far more ideas than time, Sean keeps several documents open at all times. From romance to fantasy, paranormal and sci-fi, Sean is limited only by the need for sleep—and the periodic Beaver Tail.
Sean fantasizes about one day retiring on a secluded island populated entirely by horseshoe crabs after inventing a brain-to-computer dictation system. Until then, Sean will continue to write the old-fashioned way.

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Winter Blogfest: Anna Hague

December 27, 2018 By 10 Comments

This post is part of Long and Short Reviews’ Winter Blogfest. Leave a comment for a chance to win a $15 Amazon gift card.

Busy

Busy, busy, busy. Anymore, the theme for Christmas is busy is better. We’ve become so into finding the perfect gifts and attending all invites that by the time the holidays are over we are relieved instead of revived.

I admit I get caught up too, but I also make a point to find blocks of time to be selfish. Selfish isn’t always a bad thing. For me, selfish is having lunch with a friend, playing with the dogs, and most of all, taking the time to sit down and read.

Reading novellas or anthologies during the holidays are the perfect for me. Novellas may take a day or two. Stories in anthologies can be read a story or two at a time, and you’re spending an hour, thirty minutes, or even fifteen minutes with yourself.

Of course, I read holiday stories during this time, but also I throw in few mysteries or feel-good nonfiction. When I finish a book or story, I have a glorious sense of feel-good calm and a better grasp on the dreaded to-do list.

But I’m too busy. I just can’t find the time.

Yes you can. How much time do you spend online every day? Cut your minutes by a third, and you can a short story. Delegate a few items on the to-do, and you can knock out a novella.

Don’t feel you have to be the sole person responsible for the success of Christmas.

Think about how joyful and relaxed reading makes you. And when you’re less stressed, things seem to work out.
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The definition of holiday is “a day of festivity or recreation when no work is done.”

So take your holiday, even if you have to do it fifteen minutes at a time.

 

I have it all…until he shows me more.

I didn’t intentionally spill wine all over the most beautiful guy in the room, and one look at those icy-blue eyes brings on a major lapse in coherent speech. Jordan Caldera tells me his secret and wants me to join him. This is where my journey into submission begins.

So much about BDSM freaks me out, but at the same time, I can’t help but be intrigued. When I imagine Jordan doing those things to me, I can’t resist the adventure. Mind-blowing sex aside, my life is changing at an alarming rate and getting very complicated. Between balancing my career and my best friend’s concerns, the secrets I’m keeping are killing me.

What am I willing to risk for the new lifestyle I’ve embraced…and the man I love?

About the Author: Anna Hague is an author of erotic and contemporary romance. She is also a sports reporter by day. She lives in central Indiana with her husband, three parrots, and two dogs.

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Winter Blogfest: Katie Baldwin

December 25, 2018 By 3 Comments

This post is part of Long and Short Reviews’ Winter Blogfest. Leave a comment for a chance to win a free hard copy of my book – A Kiss to Build a Dream On – sent to anywhere free in the US! .

Cheers to Santa!

Santa, the magical elf with the big full bodied laugh, enjoyed a cocktail. Or at least that was what my sister Maura and I believed. While other children left milk and cookies out for the delightful Old Saint Nick, my mother suggested that a martini would be a perfect gift for Santa. After all, he had spent most of the night already passing out gifts; didn’t he deserve a good jolt? 

My sister and I were very young, and we didn’t know anything about a “good jolt,” but we did know that disagreeing with Mom in December could potentially knock out several choice gifts from our list. Santa was, after all, watching all the children of the world in a most Orwellian way. 

But it bothered us that we were not able to see the mythical disappearance of cookies that our friends always talked about. Our mother reminded us that Santa was in a one-horse open sleigh flying around the world in December. Why on earth would he want cookies when he could enjoy the warming effects of vodka? So a martini was placed on the coffee table near the twinkling lights of the Christmas tree, and off we would go to see all the beautiful decorations in our neighborhood with visions of sugar plums dancing in our little blonde heads. 

If you’re wondering why we didn’t go to sleep with visions of sugar plums… well, when I was about five, our family began opening presents on Christmas Eve. That way, potentially – I’m not admitting to anything here – a precocious five-year-old would not open all her presents before everyone else woke up on Christmas day and claim that “Santa left them that way.” I was an adorable child. 

So, we would all get in the car, prepared to see the magic of the neighborhood lights, when our mother would “forget her purse” and have to run back to the house to get it. About 15 minutes (which roughly translates to 3 hours for children) later my Mom would come back to the car, pink in the cheeks and grinning. 

Later, when we returned home, we always found that Santa had come and gone. In his wake, he left piles of presents and an empty martini glass. It never occurred to us to equate Mom’s pink cheeks to the rather dazzling display of gifts.

And if the to/from card atop each present from Santa had a familiar script, we didn’t notice in our great zeal to get to our presents. Of course, in our family having zeal was fine; attempting to open the presents “like an animal” was another thing entirely. Our family opened each of the presents individually; none of this “group rip fest” for us. With gifts from Santa, our parents, and Grandma Jo, unwrapping presents was a monumental task. Our Grandma was not only a tape-happy present wrapper, but she also enjoyed wrapping everything from a sweater to a bundle of socks in festive paper. We would easily find ten presents under the tree from Grandma Jo. It would take us a good five minutes to open one of her gifts as she would tape the present so securely that we grunted to garner the strength to rip open the paper. This easily added an hour to the “unwrapping” event. But in the end, surrounded by toys, we each had a huge smile on our face. 
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As I look upon my childhood, it occurs to me just how magical the holidays really are for children. I can’t remember the countless hours my sister, and I would stay up at night giggling and trying to guess what Santa would bring us, both of us in matching nightgowns and tousled hair. I do know now that we did not miss out on anything by not leaving cookies out for Santa. We still had our “empty cookie plate” thing. It just involved a glass and a really good grade of vodka. Only the best for Santa, after all. 

Happy Holidays!

KatieB

Bethany Michaels leads a fairly isolated existence, but she longs to be an outgoing and sexually confident woman. When her celebrity crush comes to town, and literally falls at her feet, her prayers seem to be answered. But can she protect her heart while still experiencing true passion?

Hollywood celebrity Aidan Shannon, drunk and lost in small-town Virginia, finds himself in the home of a beautiful woman, and he finds her more than just a little alluring. Bethany is voluptuous and nurturing, fragile, yet steely. And that is a problem for a man who never wants to be tied to another woman again.

Living in the now is good enough for Aidan and Bethany for the short term. When the universe steps in and shows them what’s important, will Aidan take a chance on love a second time around when his girl needs him?

About the Author: Katie Baldwin has a secret life. During the day she is a mild-mannered administrative assistant at a prestigious University. By night she writes fantastical tales of romance and mystery. When she is not pacing her home working out dialogue in her mind, she is baking scones and working out dialogue in her mind. Aside from writing, she has a ferocious passion for the Green Bay Packers, Nutella and her MinPin/Chihuahua mix dog-baby, Marley. She can be found on twitter waxing eloquently about all of her passions. Go Pack Go! She can be reached via twitter @katiebwrites or her website: http://www.authorkatiebaldwin.com/

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Winter Blogfest: Desiree Holt

December 25, 2018 By 12 Comments

This post is part of Long and Short Reviews’ Winter Blogfest. Leave a comment for a chance to win a print copy of ILLEGAL USE OF HANDS (US and Canada only; digital other locations).

Why I Love Christmas

I think Christmas has to be my favorite holiday for so many reasons.

 Number One, of course, is that as a romance writer is gives birth to so m nay wonderful love stories. 

Of course, love is wonderful all year round, but it seems to take on a new life at Christmas. And it isn’t just the mistletoe either, that is responsible for so many unexpected kisses. No, it’s the entire ambience—the excitement of a holiday where the spirit of giving is so prevalent. It’s the time of year to pick out a gift for that special someone, to show them you love them—or still love them. 

I really enjoy writing Christmas romance scenes, where the hero and heroine are having a romantic dinner in front of the fireplace, with garlands of fir draped on the mantel and red Christmas candles lighting the room with their glow and giving off the scent of evergreen. And of course, the very special presents the couple exchange.

It’s also a time of so many traditions. Do you know where mnay of them came from?

Christmas cookies, for example. This began in ancient times with the winter solstice  but in the Middle Ages focused entirely on Christmas. Bakers  brought the ingredients to big celebrations and making the cookies became a community activity.

The sixteenth century is the first time evergreens, which previously had been adorned outside where they grew, were brought inside. It began when he word spread that Queen Victoria had her German husband, Prince Albert, set up a tree inside their palace. Lights began to adorn the trees, according to rumor, when Martin Luther was walking through a forest, saw the stars twinkling trough the branches of evergreens, and wanted to recreate it.  

And where in the heck did egg nog come from? Rumor has it that the English aristocracy created the creamy drink as an elite beverage, and added rum to keep it from spoiling. The word came from the eggs used to create the base of the drink and “noggin,” the cups it was served in.
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And finally, because I love romance, here’s why we kiss under mistletoe. Legend has it that the gods used mistletoe to resurrect Odin’s son, Baldur, from the dead. Baldur’s mother, Frigg, made the plant a symbol of love and vowed to kiss anyone who stood under it. 

All of these and more are why Christmas is such a special season, and also called the season of love. Be sure to hang your mistletoe and give out plenty of Christmas kisses.

Happy holidays, everyone. 

Or hot chocolate with rum and a candy can to stir it. Or egg nog, that once a year drink. And special Christmastime presents like snow globes. And I love listening to the carolers, seeing all the wonderful Christmas decorations through towns and cities.

Cody Alvarez needs to find a wife by New Years Day or he will lose the ranch his uncle willed to him.

Libby Morris just needs, for once in her life, to feel desired. Sensual. Appealing. Especially after an intense reshaping at a high-end spa.

When Madame Eve of 1Night Stand invites them to Christmas Week at the Castillo Lodge in Alaska, Cody and Libby are not given the names of the partners chosen for them. As they wait to learn the identities of their one-night stands, they discover an incredible spark of chemistry and a connection stronger than either has experienced before. Will spending a very erotic night together ruin their arrangements or offer another option?

About the Author: USA Today best-selling and award-winning author Desiree Holt writes everything from romantic suspense and contemporary on a variety of heat levels up to erotic, a genre in which she is the oldest living author. She has been referred to by USA Today as the Nora Roberts of erotic romance, and is a winner of the EPIC E-Book Award, the Holt Medallion and a Romantic Times Reviewers Choice nominee. She has been featured on CBS Sunday Morning and in The Village Voice, The Daily Beast, USA Today, The (London) Daily Mail, The New Delhi Times and numerous other national and international publications.

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Winter Blogfest: Abby Gordon

December 24, 2018 By 3 Comments

This post is part of Long and Short Reviews’ Winter Blogfest. Leave a comment for a chance to win a digital copy of boxed set of Carnal Connections .

Reindeer Magic

When I turned twenty-nine, life was nothing what I had thought it would be. I was a single mother with three sons, living with my parents. I was working full-time, taking a heavier than recommended load of classes to finish my degree, and exhausted. But you can’t ignore the season when you have children though so I tried. 

Mom loves Christmas though and pulls everyone in whether you really want to or not. And she gives everyone lists.

One of the items on my list, with a specific date to do it was pick up the poinsettias and other floral needs. The older two were playing with friends and my youngest son, whose birthday is Christmas Day, needed Mommy time. He ooh’ed and aah’ed at all the street decorations. I could tell he was smiling and waving because of the reactions from pedestrians. A bright-eyed, smiling toddler is hard to resist, especially at Christmas time. Halfway there, I found myself smiling and waving as well.

The florist called out when we entered. Everything was ready and I diligently went through everything, comparing it to Mom’s list. The florist smiled at my son, asking if he was excited for Santa’s visit. My son nodded eagerly, saying we were going to be baking cookies that afternoon. The florist asked if he was putting out anything for the reindeer as Santa loved it when people remembered them.  My son shook his head. The florist chided me, hadn’t I told my son about the magic reindeer food? 

OH, the look my son gave me! The florist said he had some extra, would my son like some? Big brown eyes lit up, then he asked about his older brothers giving some also. The man said he just so happened to have three extra bags of magic reindeer food. He went to the back as two assistants took everything to the car. Returning with three sandwich size baggies of oatmeal mixed with glitter, the man told my son that everyone in the family should throw some out in the yard to make sure Santa was extra happy. My son held the bags close, promising that he’d make sure everyone did.

Christmas Eve night arrived. My brothers were home. There was snow on the ground. My sons were so excited that I didn’t think they’d ever go to sleep. The cookies and milk were put on a special table by the fireplace and my youngest insisted we all troop onto the screen porch and throw the magic reindeer food. My brothers rolled their eyes but tossed. My parents and I did ours then my sons did the rest. My youngest practically dumped the rest of his bag on the top step. Convinced Santa would come and be very happy they’d remembered his deer, all three sons went to bed and fell asleep quickly.

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But my youngest was wild to see if the reindeer had liked the magic food. Putting my mug down, I picked him up and went onto the screened porch. His squeals brought everyone else to join us. The oatmeal was gone, leaving only the glitter twinkling in the porch light. Hoof prints bigger than any deer I’d seen in the area were in the snow. What delighted my youngest the most – on the second step were two prints, larger than even my brothers’ hands, and the oatmeal my son had dumped was gone. 

Suspecting my father or brothers might have done something, I glanced at their faces but they were as stunned as the boys were. 

My sons still remember the magic reindeer food.

I remember how Reindeer Magic gave me hope in something more.

A one-night stand between the world’s hottest singer/actor and a London bartender becomes public fodder when he brags about it on a morning radio program. Fired from the Lincoln Hotel, hounded by the tabloids, Jessica Munroe holes up in her flat, haunted by memories. In his private Caribbean island studio, Sean Livingston pours out his heart into the lyrics. Finally discovering what’s been happening to Jessica, Sean focuses on one thing – making her his for more than one night and sets out to rescue her and introduce her to his life. But the secrets of the past won’t stay hidden and Jessica knows that hers could take Sean from her just as she falls in love with him. To keep the perfect woman at his side, Sean will have to pull out all the stops and everything in him to seduce her one last time.

Warning – this book has steamy sex scenes and is intended for adults 18+over. If you love strong women making it on their own and alpha males who will stop at nothing to claim and protect them, this story is for you!

About the Author: Abby loves writing about any and all romance – erotica, historical and contemporary. While variety is the spice of life, she prefers a quiet nook to scribe everything the characters tell her.

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Good With His Hands by Lucy Felthouse – Spotlight

December 18, 2018 By Leave a Comment

Long and Short Reviews welcomes Lucy Felthouse who is celebrating the release of “Good With His Hands” – a short story originally released as part of the Down and Dirty boxed set. The story is only $0.99!

Layla is enjoying a beautiful moorland walk in the English countryside when suddenly, clouds start to roll in. The weather was forecast to be fine all day, so Layla is woefully unprepared when the heavens open and her visibility is reduced to next to nothing. Trying hard not to panic, she carefully makes her way towards a remote hut she spotted before the fog descended. When she arrives, though, she discovers park ranger Stuart already there, and luckily for her, he’s much more prepared than she is, and they soon find a way to pass the time until the storm blows over.

Note: Good With His Hands was previously published in the Down and Dirty boxed set.

Enjoy an Excerpt

Anticipation seeped into Layla’s body, increasing with every second that ticked by. Each handhold she groped for, each push off with her feet brought her that bit closer to the moorland plateau she’d been wanting to explore ever since she’d seen photos of it in a Facebook group a few weeks ago. She was a keen hiker—or walker, she’d never really understood what the difference was between the two—but she’d always stuck to places she knew well, or had at least visited a couple of times before, mainly because she always walked alone, and getting lost was bad enough without doing it by yourself.

But one Sunday evening, after a flurry of yet more stunning photographs of the area had been uploaded to the group, Layla made up her mind. The following Sunday, she would join the seemingly scores of people that headed up to the dramatic-looking gritstone edge in Derbyshire’s Peak District every weekend, no matter the weather. Hikers, climbers, fell runners… they all raved about the place, despite the crowds. And if she did get lost, well, she’d just ask one of them for directions. No problem. Then, providing it was indeed as amazing as the photo-uploaders proclaimed it to be, she’d add it to her list of regular haunts. It’d make a refreshing change from her usual low-level trail walks.

Now she was beginning to understand what all the fuss was about, and she wasn’t even at the top yet. After leaving the relative familiarity of the car park, she’d trekked up a slight incline through some dense woods—surprised to pass only one or two small groups of people on the way. She’d expected it to look like London’s Oxford Street but with outdoorsy types in hefty boots and backpacks instead of shoppers with umbrellas and carrier bags. The moment she’d stepped from the shadow of the woods, the landscape had opened up in front of her and she’d got a real sense of how special it was. Then she’d glanced up and to her right and, taking in the height of the edge she had yet to climb, realised she hadn’t seen the half of it yet.
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With one last push to get her onto a particularly large boulder, then a small step, she was there. On the gritstone edge, the moorland plateau—whatever you wanted to call it. As she took a couple of tentative steps forward and looked around, she decided she wanted to call it heaven. It was like nowhere she’d ever been before—so removed from everyday life that she was half convinced she’d stepped onto the moon, except it was unmistakably England. Wild, untamed, rugged, but England nonetheless. How had she never been up here before? And were there more places like it? She suddenly felt like the worst kind of ignorant city dweller—her walks up until now had made a mockery of wearing walking boots. She may as well have done it in flip flops.

She turned at the sound of voices behind her, and moved aside to let a group of three men in their early twenties pass. They had enormous, weirdly-shaped bags strapped to their backs, and yet strode along—exchanging smiles and nods with her when they drew level—as though their burdens weighed nothing.

Layla shook her head incredulously and started to follow in their footsteps. She didn’t need to consult her walk instructions yet—there was only one path, deliberately keeping footfall to a dedicated area for conservation purposes, according to a snippet of text she remembered reading on her printout. The trail stayed close to the edge—not so close as to be dangerous, but close enough to afford the most amazing views. The ground beneath her feet was made up of mud, rough grasses, rocks and boulders in shades of grey, brown, and black, scrubby bushes, and what she suspected was heather. To her left, the stunning countryside went on for as far as the eye could see, with delightfully twisted trees in the foreground, followed by brown and green fields, woodlands, moorlands, and more fields, broken up only very occasionally by a road—often only identifiable by the moving glint of light that passed along them—vehicles highlighted by the reflection of the sun off their metalwork. It’d be incredibly easy to forget civilisation even existed while she was up here.

About the Author: Lucy Felthouse is the award-winning author of erotic romance novels Stately Pleasures (named in the top 5 of Cliterati.co.uk’s 100 Modern Erotic Classics That You’ve Never Heard Of, and an Amazon bestseller), Eyes Wide Open (winner of the Love Romances Café’s Best Ménage Book 2015 award, and an Amazon bestseller), The Persecution of the Wolves, Hiding in Plain Sight and The Heiress’s Harem series. Including novels, short stories and novellas, she has over 170 publications to her name.

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Roosters: Sweet and Innocent by Megan Slayer – Spotlight and Giveaway

November 27, 2018 By 3 Comments

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Megan Slayer will be awarding a prize pack featuring a necklace made by the author and signed swag to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

Anissa Dunn wants one man — Kameron. He’s got looks, brains and a boatload of attitude… and all that muscle. A girl can only take so much, and he’s her heart’s desire. She’s not afraid to give as good as she gets and she wants him to be her teacher in all things carnal.

There’s only one catch — he’s her bodyguard and the rules state she can’t date the staff.

But rules are meant to be broken…

Read an Excerpt

Copyright ©2018 Megan Slayer

I will make him notice me. Anissa adjusted her dress. The cherry-red halter frock hung on her thin frame. So much for the correct fit. She sighed. No matter what she did, she couldn’t put on weight. She debated what to add to improve her figure. If she wore the leather jacket, she’d appear edgy. The clunky boots helped increase her height, so she was fine there. But her bust… drat. She peered down at her chest. A wave of nausea hit her as she thought about her dating past. Guys didn’t want to date a woman with a flat chest — or so they’d told her.

She spied the gel bra cups she’d bought during her last trip to the fabric store. If she had boobs, maybe the guy of her dreams would finally notice her. He had to.

Anissa stuffed the chilly padding beneath the cups of her dress. Her boobs looked huge. Instead of the burst of confidence she’d expected, she hated her reflection in the mirror. The additions didn’t fit her frame. But she had a date and no choice but to do her best to entice him. If fake boobs worked, then fine. She’d take her chances.

She donned the jacket, then grabbed her purse and hurried downstairs.

Kam stood in the foyer. He wore the same battered leather jacket, faded jeans and dark sunglasses as he always did. He touched his earpiece. “In position.”

Her heart fluttered. Kameron Stone personified sex in human form. Her nipples ached, and she pressed her knees together. She’d never been with a man and wanted Kam to be her first. If she had her way, he’d be her only.

Would he be with her?

Better yet, would he love her the way she loved him?

About the Author:

Megan Slayer, aka Wendi Zwaduk, is a multi-published, award-winning author of more than one-hundred short stories and novels. She’s been writing since 2008 and published since 2009. Her stories range from the contemporary and paranormal to LGBTQ and BDSM themes. No matter what the length, her works are always hot, but with a lot of heart. She enjoys giving her characters a second chance at love, no matter what the form. She’s been the runner up in the Kink Category at Love Romances Café as well as nominated at the LRC for best author, best contemporary, best ménage and best anthology. Her books have made it to the bestseller lists on Amazon.com.

When she’s not writing, Megan spends time with her husband and son as well as three dogs and three cats. She enjoys art, music and racing, but football is her sport of choice.

Newsletter | Website | Blog | Facebook | Amazon Author Page | BookBub Author Page | Instagram | Goodreads | Twitter

Buy the book at Changling Press, Amazon, or other online venues.

a Rafflecopter giveaway
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Top Five Favorite Thanksgiving Dishes by Sean Michael – Guest Blog

November 19, 2018 By Leave a Comment


Long and Short Reviews welcomes Sean Michael who is visiting with us today to celebrate the re-release of Personal Best 2.

Thank you to Long and Short Reviews for hosting me today!

Top Five lists are actually difficult for me, because I hate choosing favorites. It is easier if there’s a smaller pool of things to choose from, and Thanksgiving is coming up, so I thought I would do my favorite holiday dishes. I have spent many a Thanksgiving in the US with my best friends, so I am familiar with the traditional foods.

Top Five Favorite Thanksgiving Dishes

5. Chex Mix. This is yummy before during and after Thanksgiving as a snack.
4. Biscuits. Who doesn’t love a biscuit?
3. Cranberry salad. This is a dessert – I first had it at my best friends a long time ago and it has become a favorite for not just me, but my entire family, from the spouse and kids, to the inlaws.
2. Brussel Sprouts. Guh. I love them however you cook them, but deep fried with parmesan on them or fried with bacon are my favorite ways to eat them.
1. Devilled eggs. I love these silly things and for some reason only ever have them as a part of pre-thanksgiving dinner munchies. I really ought to simply make them whenever I get the urge for them.

You’ll notice that turkey is not on that list. I’m not a huge fan of turkey. I like it in a sandwich as leftovers and I’m happy to have some on Thanksgiving, but it certainly isn’t the star of the table for me.

Sean Michael
smut fixes everything

Swimmer Mike Gauliet is moving up in the elite ranks of the American swim team, despite his repetitive stress injuries. He’s hiding his pain from coach Jessy Turner, not wanting to give in to it or let his coach and lover down, and by the time he gets treatment, it’s almost too late.

Jessy helps Mike heal, both in an out of the bedroom, and their need for each other grows as quickly as Mike’s career. They’re scorching hot and ready to go to the top competitions when another injury forces Mike to the sidelines. Jessy thinks this one is no accident, and Mike has to work hard to recover the lost ground.

Mike needs a break from the nonstop stress of training, so they move to the coast so Mike can recuperate once again. But their struggles don’t end with getting him back in competition form, and they can’t truly call it a victory unless they can find the balance between their romantic relationship and Mike grabbing the success he’s earned.

Enjoy an Excerpt

Stroke, stroke, stroke, turn. Lap.

Mike was beginning to feel the burn, muscles getting tired, the wall getting farther and farther.

Stroke, stroke, stroke, turn. Lap.

One week until they had another meet. Then a month to training camp. Fuck. That was playing with the big boys.

Stroke, stroke, stroke, turn. Lap.

Fuck, he’d lost count. How many had he done? How many were left? Fuck.

Fuck.

Stroke, stroke, stroke, turn. Lap.

A long body sliced through the water and paced him.

Stroke, stroke, stroke, turn. Lap.

Shit, he must have gone over.

Damn it. That meant he went until Coach said stop.

Fuck a duck.

He was supposed to meet the guys for a movie tonight too.

Here patients don’t need supplementations for a long period browse this drugstore viagra 20mg in india of time. Without cheapest viagra tabs fail have the drug twenty minutes before an erection may occur and the effects will generally last thirty to sixty minutes. It’s also important that the learners know about the laws, whose violations would draw a trouble levitra vs cialis for them. There are http://appalachianmagazine.com/2018/02/08/a-brit-explains-the-difference-between-living-in-america-and-britain/ cialis sale two primary ways in which it can cause glucose spillage towards the urine. Stroke, stroke, stroke, turn. Lap.

Coach kept moving with him, close enough he could feel the heat of that body in the water next to him.

Stroke, stroke, stroke, turn. Lap.

His heart was pounding, strokes slowing, his arms so heavy.

Stroke, stroke, stroke, turn. Lap.

They did three more, each one harder than the last.

He was shaking by the end, breathing hard, holding on to the wall.

“Sorry, Coach.”

Jessy’s strong body surrounded him, hands next to his on the wall. “Stubborn fool.”

He leaned into those arms, panting. “Who? Me?”

“No, the other guy who damn near drowned out here.” That voice was gruff, angry. Worried.

“Wasn’t gonna drown.” He could swim in his sleep.

“No?” Coach grabbed his hands and yanked him off the wall, and swam back into the middle of the pool with him before letting him go. “Then give me another five.”

He growled, “Could have at least let me have the wall, asshole.”

Then he gritted his teeth and swam, forcing his body to fucking do it. Coach kept pace with him again, never leaving his fucking side. Just waiting for him to screw up. Well, he wasn’t going to. Damn it. He could go four more laps.

Prick.

Asshole.

Bastard.

When Mike made the last lap, Coach got out and pulled him out of the water to lie on the deck. “You stupid fool! If I tossed you back in and told you to give me ten more, you would! Start listening to your fucking body instead of just pushing it all the damned time.” Coach started pacing, muttering to himself.

Mike lay there, panting, waiting for the tremors to stop, his heart to slow.

Coach finally stopped pacing and hauled him up over one shoulder, carrying him into the weight room, and put him down on the matted table to work his muscles with those big hands. “One of these days that stubborn pride is going to get you hurt.”

“Either that or win me a race.” Oh, God, that felt good. So good.

“Pardon me, but I don’t believe you were fucking racing anyone out there today.”

“No. No, I wasn’t. I lost count. I’m sorry, Coach.”

About the Author: Best-selling author Sean Michael is a maple leaf–loving Canadian who spends hours hiding out in used book stores. With far more ideas than time, Sean keeps several documents open at all times. From romance to fantasy, paranormal and sci-fi, Sean is limited only by the need for sleep—and the periodic Beaver Tail.

Sean fantasizes about one day retiring on a secluded island populated entirely by horseshoe crabs after inventing a brain-to-computer dictation system. Until then, Sean will continue to write the old-fashioned way.

Website | Blog | Facebook | Twitter | Instagram

Buy the book at Dreamspinner Press.

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My Totally Eighties Life by Z.A. Maxfield – Guest Blog and Giveaway

November 16, 2018 By 1 Comment

Long and Short Reviews welcomes Z.A. Maxfield who is celebrating the recent release of Hawaii Five Uh-Oh. Enter the Rafflecopter at the end of the post for a chance to win a box with Hawai’ian Island-related items, valued at $25.00 (US only please).

*****

Hi everyone! Thanks so much for welcoming me to the Long and Short Review blog for a little teaser of the newest “Plummet” story, Hawai’i Five Uh-oh.

My Plummet to Soar books are a series of affiliated books–super loosely based around Plummet To Soar, a fictional self-help book written by Mackenzie Detweiler. (The man from book one, who fell from a tourist helicopter and lived to tell the tale.)

Each of the books features some person touched by reading Plummet to Soar, whose life has changed because they were forced to rethink what they have and what they truly want.

Today, I thought I’d share five things you might not know about my totally eighties life, beginning with:

1. Stevie Nicks. Seriously. Is there a woman my age who doesn’t love Stevie? Who didn’t try to dress like her. Wear their hair like hers. I get now why the raspy, throaty voice gave me shivers to my toes, but even back in the day I would have called it a major girl crush. I saw Fleetwood Mac in concert, and also caught Stevie Nick’s solo tour. A lot of those songs were thoughtful. The lyrics were poetry. The music, compelling. I was in a California Fish Grill restaurant, just this morning, with the radio tuned to some kind of everything eighties station, and they played “Stop Dragging My Heart Around,” Stevie’s duet with Tom Petty. I told my husband I resented the implication that the healthy diners where we live are all our age – between close to and well past retirement, but it is what it is. Outside, there was a meetup of folks with classic cars, and inside, most of the diners were old enough to have purchased those songs as LPs or 45s.

2. MTV. You know what? A lot of people dug watching music videos back in the day. Everyone still makes them. I watched about a month and a half’s worth of MTV on the Z channel in the early eighties, but honestly? I was never a fan. Unlike listening to music in the background, they were designed to totally engage me. As a child of the sixties, I’d been trained to give a television my full attention, but it was obvious early on that music videos were only commercials and there was no there there. I found them insufferably boring. After the first time, I was done. A few good ones stick out in my mind: “Take On Me”, of course. Anything by Michael Jackson, but “Thriller”, especially. “Hot for Teacher”, by Van Halen because I hadn’t planted my feminist flag yet. Now, the only videos I watch have Beyoncé in them… I’d be embarrassed to say how many times I’ve watched “Lemonade,” all the way through.

3. Jane Fonda and Richard Simmons. I’ve always struggled with my weight, so these two are a natural. Between sparkly headbands, dolphin shorts, leg warmers, and high-cut leotards, I ate it all up. I worked out to their videos, got the stretchy bands and pulleys, and even purchased one of Jane Fonda’s manual treadmills, which turned out to be awesome, actually, something I used for years, and not only for fitness. Once, when my daughter had an elementary school project on statistics and probability, she devised a test where we elevated the machine and one of her brothers ran on it, while another threw buttered toast on the track, and a third recorded the results as each piece fell off the end: Whether it landed face up, or face down. What a terrific, creative way to use that equipment–and yes, it was a statistical dead heat. #Mythbusted

4. Marriage. A pretty girl named Diana got married to a prince in the eighties and then totally dominated the world of style until she passed, tragically young. I had my collection of Di hats until we moved a couple months ago. I know they’ll come back, so hit the thrift stores. They’re out there somewhere. You’re welcome.

5. Sexism. I worked as a computer programmer, which started out to be a really promising place for women in technology. My friend Joanne wrote one of the very first home computer video games. She was even written up in magazines! But programming and gaming became a boy’s club for the most part and women were getting 2/3 of what men earned. Let’s be honest, I don’t miss that part of the eighties at all.

But you know what? Now is such a good time to be alive. It’s the best time ever to be a writer. All the world’s information, art, literature, and news is yours for the push of a button! Sure, you have to be discerning and it’s easy to get confused by misinformation, but would you really rather live before the information age? I sure wouldn’t!

Tell me about your eighties life (or your twenties, whenever they happened.)

Best wishes for a wonderful, drama-free holiday season!

ZAM

Sarcastic cop Theo Hsu returns home to Hawai‘i after realizing he wants more from his life, and also, less. He hopes to reconnect with his past and make amends with his mother, who remarried a cool, distant man, leaving Theo unsure where he stands.

It doesn’t take him long to figure out where he wants to stand, though: right next to his childhood best friend, tattooed detective Koa Palapiti. Theo would like to upgrade their relationship, but Koa is putting out some seriously mixed signals. It’s a mystery Theo can’t let go, but just as they start to connect, kidnapping, murder, and a deadly game with international stakes get in the way. Koa wants to keep Theo out of it, and if it comes to a choice between him and Koa’s partner, Freddie Ortiz, Theo doesn’t like his chances.

But even if Koa wants to push him out of the investigation, and his life, Theo still has a few tricks up his sleeve. It’ll take all his special gifts, ingenuity, risk-taking, family ties—and even some kinky undercover work—to save the day… and the man he never should’ve let get away.

About the Author: Z. A. Maxfield started writing in 2007 on a dare from her children and never looked back. Pathologically disorganized, and perennially optimistic, she writes as much as she can, reads as much as she dares, and enjoys her time with family and friends. Three things reverberate throughout all her stories: Unconditional love, redemption, and the belief that miracles happen when we least expect them.

If anyone asks her how a wife and mother of four can find time for a writing career, she’ll answer, “It’s amazing what you can accomplish if you give up housework.”

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Instagram | Goodreads | Amazon

Buy the book at these online venues.

a Rafflecopter giveaway
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Resisting the Rock Star by Megan Slayer – Spotlight and Giveaway

November 12, 2018 By 2 Comments

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Megan Slayer will be awarding a prize pack featuring a necklace made by the author and signed swag to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

What the rock god wants, he gets—including her.

Mason ‘Kross’ Khan left the rock and roll stage to connect with the son he never knew existed. He’s used to electrifying crowds and romancing the ladies. Money’s never been an object. He’s not looking for a relationship, but when he meets the saucy brunette at a club, he’s smitten. Danya’s perfect—curvy, smart and has no idea he’s a giant in the music industry. The one-night stand is just what he needs and he’s convinced he’ll never see Danya again—until he attends conference night at the local high school.

Danya Littrell isn’t just his one-night stand. She’s also his son’s art teacher and the woman who sparks his muse. Can he balance parenthood, a relationship with Danya and his music career? Or will his secrets be too much for the relationship to withstand?

Enjoy an Excerpt:

©2018 Megan Slayer, All Rights Reserved

“What if this guy could love you? What if he’s not like Harry? You passed him by.” Kelly turned Danya around. “You had the balls to speak to him and have a dance. Harness those balls and give this guy a shot.”

“Mason,” she mumbled. His name sounded good on her lips. He looked like a Mason. He also struck her as exotic but approachable.

“Who?”

“His name is Mason.” She’d spoken to him when she’d thought she had no chance. Before she could cross the room, he and Michelle joined her and Kelly.

Michelle grinned. She leaned into him and tipped her chin. Danya suppressed a groan. The woman didn’t have to be so smug. She’d been friends with Michelle since the third grade, and Michelle never ceased to remind Danya she was the top dog. Danya was the designated unpretty friend.

“Ladies, this is Mason,” Michelle said. “He’s new-ish in town.”

Kelly rested her hands on her hips. “Michelle, aren’t you supposed to be meeting Craig here tonight?”

“We split,” Michelle snapped. “I want to introduce you to Mason.” She turned to him. “You’ve met Danya, and this is Kelly. She’s married.”

“Or she just enjoys sporting big-ass diamonds to ward off approaching men,” Danya muttered.

Kelly snorted. “Justin will love that when I tell him. He spent two grand on a diamond that’s just there to ward off men. Nice.” She stuck out her right hand to Mason. “It’s nice to meet you.” She turned back to Michelle. “Craig texted me and said he’s on his way.”

“Kelly.” Michelle glared at her. “A word?”

Danya stifled a chuckle. Kelly always knew when to stand up to bullies. While Kelly and Michelle went outside to discuss Kelly’s comments, Mason remained with Danya.

“She’s pissed,” Mason said.

“That’s nothing. You’ve never seen her when she’s truly upset. Hell hath no fury like a Michelle annoyed.” Danya shrugged. “She thinks all men are at her disposal.”

“Then it’s a good thing she’s got a boyfriend—I think. I kind of feel bad for him.” Mason bumped shoulders with her. “Makes asking you out a lot easier, though. I meant what I said, and I liked our dance. Want to dance again?” He didn’t give her a chance to argue. He tugged her to the dance floor a second time. “Nice dodge, though.” He half-grinned. “I’d think you were trying to palm me off.”

“No.” Oh God. Ignoring her hadn’t been his intention. “I not good at palming anyone off or having much courage, but if I were at my job, I’d be able to say what I needed to say without a problem. When I’m in the wild, I’m horrible.”

About the Author:

Megan Slayer, aka Wendi Zwaduk, is a multi-published, award-winning author of more than one-hundred short stories and novels. She’s been writing since 2008 and published since 2009. Her stories range from the contemporary and paranormal to LGBTQ and BDSM themes. No matter what the length, her works are always hot, but with a lot of heart. She enjoys giving her characters a second chance at love, no matter what the form. She’s been the runner up in the Kink Category at Love Romances Café as well as nominated at the LRC for best author, best contemporary, best ménage and best anthology. Her books have made it to the bestseller lists on Amazon.com.

When she’s not writing, Megan spends time with her husband and son as well as three dogs and three cats. She enjoys art, music and racing, but football is her sport of choice.

Website | Newsletter | Blog | a href=”https://www.facebook.com/wendizwaduk.meganslayer”>Facebook | Amazon Author Page | BookBub | Instagram | Goodreads | Twitter

Buy the book at Barnes and Noble, Amazon,
Google, iBooks, or Kobo.

a Rafflecopter giveaway
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