Talking Etiquette with Sally Orr – Guest Blog and Giveaway

2_11 sally orr To Catch a Rake coverThis post is part of a virtual tour organized by the publisher. Enter the Rafflecopter for a chance to win a copy of When the Rake Falls, along with a special note from the author, Sally Orr.

Talking Etiquette with Sally Orr
If you open a nineteenth century etiquette book like, The ladies’ hand-book of etiquette and manual of politeness, you will find rules for everything. Rules on how to properly address a letter, how to meet someone in a demure fashion, what to do if a gentleman is vulgar, or how to stand or walk the proper distance from your betters.

Huh?

Many of these rules are common sense and still apply today. Some however, to repeat a cliché, have gone with the wind. For example, anyone familiar with social media must realize that nineteenth century rules of modesty have been forgotten.

One of the charms of historical romance is to spend a few moments in the graceful past. While I’ve never come across someone standing a few paces behind a Duke in romance novels, there are many other aspects of etiquette that do grace their pages. Who does not like a gentleman who would place his cape over a mud puddle so a lady may not get muddy?

Sigh.

One other form of etiquette I admire is the habit of taking a bow of respect. Forget the etiquette of gentlemen standing upon a lady’s entrance (that might resemble whack-a-mole and give me an outbreak of the giggles), but who wouldn’t enjoy a brief bow of respect every once and awhile? I wonder if my husband would do this? He’ll give me a wink and probably say, “I’ll give you an occasional bow if you walk two paces behind me.”

Here’s an excerpt from TO CATCH A RAKE when the hero behaves like a gentleman, even though he might not be feeling that way:

Halfway to his destination, he observed three lovely ladies approaching him on the pathway. The first lady caught sight of him at a hundred paces and stopped in her tracks. The other women then stopped too. The group conversed for a minute before giggles erupted.

George hated giggles. Women were not high on his list of favorite things at the moment. They ranked right up there with over-flowing privies. None of them could be trusted, because they were all inveterate tittle-tattlers, bags of maudlin sentiment, and silly book writers.

“Oh look, that’s the very man himself,” the first lady said, immediately pulling back her hand when caught pointing at him.

He lengthened his stride, hoping to pass them in seconds.

“Are you certain?” the second lady said.

The first lady furtively nodded.

Ten feet before their paths crossed, he caught a white flash out of the corner of his eye. Upon further examination, it appeared the first lady had dropped her handkerchief on the pavement in front of him. He ground his teeth. Then swore he had no intention of picking it up. Very likely his chivalry toward the fairer sex may have escaped him permanently. He quickened his step.

A foot away, the second lady dropped her handkerchief right in his path. If he stepped on it, the handkerchief would be ruined, so he had to stop. Glaring downward at the offending cloth, he mumbled a strong swear word under his breath. He inhaled, tipped his hat, and bowed. “Ladies.” He then addressed the third one. “Would you care to drop your handkerchief too? It’s more efficient if I pick all three up at the same time. Besides, I would hate to leave a member of your party out of my gallantries.”

All of the ladies beamed.

The third one shook her head. “I forgot to bring my handkerchief,” she said in a disappointed tone.

He feigned a smile. “My loss.”

They all continued to smile and repeatedly nodded at each other.

He bent over to pick up the two white linen squares. At the very moment his hand grabbed the first one, a flash of silver and a heavy thump sounded as a silver reticule dropped on the pavement in front of his nose.

Seemingly without a handkerchief, the third lady had thrown in her reticule.

A moment of uneasy silence followed. Finally, he straightened and burst out in laughter.

The three women joined him, and they all laughed together.

After regaining his composure, he shook his head and bent over to pick up the small collection of items on the pavement. He then gracefully handed each piece to the correct owner, followed with a deep bow.

“Thank you, sir.”

“Thank you, Miss . . .”

“Goddess,” she said, looking entirely pleased with herself.

“And I’m Miss Widow,” her companion added.

Her friend nudged her arm. “Miss Widow Maker, dear.”

“Yes, I make widows.”

He chuckled and doffed his hat. “Ladies.” Once on his way again, he heaved a sigh of relief. Thankfully, he acknowledged his anger did not apply to all women—just one.

What is your favorite form of etiquette practiced by romantic heroes?

No Good Rake Goes Unpunished

When George Drexel used his vast experience with women to write and publish The Rake’s Handbook: Including Field Guide, little did he realize the havoc it would cause. Now years later, the rumor of a second edition has London’s naughtiest widows pounding on his door, begging to be included. But George has given up his roguish ways and wants nothing more than to be left alone with his architectural pursuits…until beautiful Meta Russell tempts him from his work and leaves him contemplating an altogether different sort of plan.

The handbook may be years out of print, but it still has the power to ruin lives. Desperate to save her sister—whose inclusion has left her jilted—Meta tracks down the rake responsible, only to find a man who steals her breath and leaves her reeling. Banding together to put things to rights, George and Meta find themselves drawn inexorably together…but can Meta truly trust her heart to a man who wrote the book on being a rake?

About the Author:2_11 Sally Orr photoSally Orr worked for 30 years in academic research, when one day a friend challenged her to write a novel. Since she is a hopeless Anglophile, her books are by default Regency romances. She lives with her husband surrounded by books, modernist mid-century dishes, and English cars in San Diego, California.

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads
Buy the book at Amazon, Barnes and Noble, Apple, Kobo, BAM, Indigo, or IndieBound.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Balancing Life and Writing by Erin Cawood – Guest Blog and Giveaway

VBT_MaybeTomorrow_Banner

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Erin Cawood will be awarding a $10 Amazon/BN GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

Balancing life and writing

Although, I stopped defining them as separate entities a long time ago, I monumentally fail at balancing the real world with fiction world. Right now, it’s the day before the start of my book tour with GoddessFish Promotions and I’m still reviewing and writing guest posts and interviews for the tour hosts. This should have been completed a week ago. But last weekend I was updating my website, which turned into a fail of epic proportions and I lost 90% of the content on my website, and it blew my schedule to pieces. I’ve been trying to catch up ever since. But this past week has also been crazy because the real world has demanded so much more of my time, beyond the everyday activities that we all have to deal with. I’ve had interviews which have required a lot of prep time which would have normally been my writing time… and a migraine!

As a writer, the longer I go between writing fiction, the grumpier I get. But since the beginning of 2016, my fictionworld time has been sucked into the non-writing necessities of being an author. It’s all been about promoting Maybe Tomorrow, planning the upcoming release of Crossing Lines, and editing Cupid Moments: Life’s A Ball, but at least my creative cravings have been satisfied by the designing of social media graphics and production of book trailers.

There are some tips and tricks, I can share with you about how I utilize my time and multi-task, in order to keep ahead of the ever-growing to-do list.

1) Write everything down! Yes I’m a list maker. I suffer from Chronic Migraine and my short term memory is shot. The chances are if something doesn’t go on my to-do list, it doesn’t get done.

2) Utilize your smartphone to its fullest potential! I’ve had the Samsung S6 for around a year now, before that I had the Note II, and before that I had Blackberry devices for four years. Why?

a. You can get a basic version of Word (Or Google docs), both use cloud technology which means you can write on the go and pick up where you left off when you get back to your desk.

b. Not only that, but I have access to my emails; despite having word on my phone, I’ve long since been in the habit of emailing any ideas I have to myself and collecting them in a folder in my inbox.

c. No matter where I am, I can put in my earphones and submerge myself in the latest story I’m working on. I have an hour long commute to and from work, so this trip on the bus takes me to a whole new world, while I’m heading to work and back. The only issue is the blasted auto correct!

d. You have a camera. Capturing those physical triggers for inspiration to call upon them later is invaluable. But we’re also living in the Selfie age and being able to capture your day to day life and then share with your friends, family and fans, allows us writers to connect with our friends, and followers, in a way we’ve never been able to before.

e. The above point only emphasizes why you need to have your social media at your fingertips at all times!

3) Outsourcing: There are only so many hours in the day, and you have to prioritise what’s important, and decide what things on your to-do list you can outsource. If you’ve got the money to hire a virtual assistant or a publicist then go for it! If not, then fiverr is an invaluable source of low cost services. You can find anything and everything, from graphic design to promotional services. I recently paid $5 to have someone else post my book to the different Facebook groups. I gained 30 extra downloads of my free book that day. Money well spent! As with any new service provider, remember to check out the customer reviews and their average rating.

4) Scheduling: There are a number of online applications that will enable you to schedule social media posts, such as Hootsuite, and Buffer. Even Facebook has implemented a scheduler for pages. The beauty of these facilities this that you can do all of your social media posts in one go and spread them out over the day/week. I use this facility mostly when I have a promotion going on. Unfortunately, it’s not a post and go. You still have to monitor, react and response to what’s going on. Social media is all about engagement, so you have to be present to be involved in the conversation. But it does make your life a little easier.

5) The last tip I’d like to share, is switching off. This is probably the hardest this of all. I’m so much more productive without the distraction of the television, or the internet, or the mobile phone. There are times when you have to go dark and switch off all of the distractions. I usually leave my phone on silent and in another room. I share an office with my partner and will generally take myself away from there and work in the living room, or the bedroom, to avoid the temptation to chat, I also disconnect the internet and tick off each job on my to-do list as it’s completed.

My life is crazy hectic all the time, so if you’ve got anything to add to this list, I’d love to hear from you!

MediaKit_BookCover_MaybeTomorrowDoes a heart ever really heal from its first break?

On an unseasonably hot night in late September, Dr. Keon McGowan is called away from a family gathering to a hospital emergency. Amongst his patients that night is a blast from his past he’d rather forget. He’ll certainly never forgive butterfly hunter Darcia Davenport for leaving him alone as a single father while she chased butterflies through the Amazon rainforest.

Coming face to face with the woman who broke his heart after all this time, Keon realises that he has never fully healed from it. But any chance of finding closure is ripped away when Darcy chooses to end treatment and live her final weeks without regret. Can Keon let her go? Or will he fight for the tomorrow they might never have? Maybe Tomorrow is an emotional journey of love caught between fate and destiny.

Enjoy an excerpt:

Vibrations shot Dr. Keon McGowan’s hip as he placed a sterile gauze pad against the head of the frightened teenager sitting in cubicle nine. “I think there’s more blood than damage,” he reassured the youngster with a warm smile. Although the fifteen-year-old would need stitches, he’d been lucky on all accounts. Keon looked up at the boy’s parents and continued. “I’d still like a couple of scans. It’s routine with head injuries, and it’s likely the on-call neurologist will want to keep him overnight for observation just to be on the safe side.”

Keon gave them a nod as he removed his latex gloves, tossed them in the medical waste bin, and washed his hands. He didn’t want to cut their time short, but as the head of London’s largest trauma centre, Keon was acutely aware there were too many patients still awaiting first assessments, and there wasn’t a single cubicle free in the accident and emergency treatment area. He fielded calls between treating patients, unable to move more than ten feet without someone calling his name. It was all in a day’s work, except today, things were more hectic than usual, due to a massive traffic accident involving almost 200 people less than three hours ago.

“I’ll arrange for a porter to come as soon as possible,” Keon promised the parents of the fifteen-year-old at the end of the consultation. “But I’m sure you can appreciate they’re stacked out at the moment, as is the imaging department. I’m sorry it’s going to be a bit of a wait.”

They nodded, and Keon swiftly left the cubicle as his mobile vibrated against his hip again. Quickly, he glanced at the name on the screen. He wouldn’t normally take a personal call in the middle of a crisis like this, but this caller resided on the other side of the world. “I’m sorry, Sarah, but I can’t talk now.”

“Oh, hello, Sarah. How are you? I’m fine, Keon, thank you for asking.” Her sarcasm was not missed, but he was just too busy to acknowledge it. “But I thought I’d make this really important phone call to remind you the doctors at Mount Cook are still waiting for your call.”

“I’m sorry, but I’ve got seventy-three people who were in an RTA three hours ago. I can’t talk about this now.” He didn’t mean to be short, but the board had too many patients for his liking, and his staff grew weary. He didn’t need Sarah on his back right now. He returned to the nurses’ station. “Heather? Can you arrange for the patient in cubicle nine to have a CT scan and page neurology, please?”

About the Author:
Erin Cawood is a commercial women’s fiction author, with a taste for dramatic storylines and a passion for strong lead characters she really gets behind, cheering on right to the very end of their story. Her focus? Taking romance into the darker, edgier side of contemporary fiction.

Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads

Buy the book at Amazon or Barnes and Noble.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

What Kind of Writer Am I? by Nino Gugunishvili – Guest Blog and Giveaway

NBTM_FridayEveningEightOClock_Banner copy

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Nino Gugunishvili will be awarding a $10 Amazon/BN GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

What kind of writer am I

Hello everybody and a very special THANK YOU for hosting me on your blog! This really is a privilege to me, needless to say how thrilled and excited I am being here. Today I would like to talk about the topic: What kind of writer am I… but before that I guess, I should introduce myself to you.

My name is Nino Gugunishvili. I live in Tbilisi, Georgia, a beautiful Eastern European country which you should definitely put on your next destination list! I’ll gladly be your host and show you some secret gems of it around.

My professional and educational background is in film, television and arts management. My debut novel Friday Evening, Eight O’ Clock was largely influenced with my personal and professional experiences. If talking about an inspiration where it came from, I would definitely mention film and literature.

There’s a saying: “If you can’t find a book you want to read, write it yourself.” To a large extent that could apply to my own writing since I’ve always been an avid reader of such authors like Helen Fielding, Sophie Kinsella, Marian Keyes, Elizabeth Gilbert, Anna Gavalda, Nora Ephron, Ann Patchett, Jennifer Weiner, Lee Harrington, John Grogan, and many, many more whose brilliant, extraordinary talent I greatly admire.

For me writing always was and still is an ultimate, most enjoyable process where I can invent a different reality out of nowhere. Nevertheless, honestly, I never thought that I would write a novel. It was more of an unrealistic dream, something I would think of for the future, which turned out to be winter of 2013.

It almost began like a game. I just came from a trip to a winter resort with my closest friend, where we caught a terrible flu. We both stayed at our homes and she texted me saying, she was working from home, just like Carry Bradshaw and wouldn’t mind reading something to entertain herself. I jokingly suggested writing something for her and that’s how it all started. Every single day I wrote several pages on a certain topic and sent them to her. Then, another friend joined and we even created a closed group on Facebook where I posted each and every day.

I remember standing on my apartment balcony when a phrase came out of nowhere to me: “Balthazar Hamish woke up in a grumpy mood that morning” which eventually became the first sentence of my future book.

During the period of writing, I got practically unsocial. All I was thinking about was the plot and the characters, but when I wrote I never knew what was coming next. That’s why I guess, I’m not a plotter or a planner. Usually I worked for several hours a day. Sometimes I came up with a full chapter, or a scene. It all came out really spontaneously. I hated anything or anyone disturbing me from my writing, stealing that time from me.

In the summer of 2013 the first draft of my debut novel was ready and for many people it was a huge surprise! Finally they understood why I was always hurrying home or not even answering their calls. I hope they forgive me now. Even today, while working on the draft of my second novel, I still have the same routine. I write during the first half of the day and do not stop until everything I thought about is on paper. I need to have a character with a name, no matter men or women. I need to know what exactly they look like. As soon as I come up with the names I visualize their habits, tastes and the manner they speak in. I visualize every tiny detail. Here’s an example: I knew that the main protagonist Tasha, would have a dog, a Labrador retriever, or that another character, Balthazar Hamish would have a headache in the opening scene, or, that he’ll have a deputy – Liz Foster. I also knew that Tasha would be straight-forward, unconfident and funny. These were certain hints as the plot evolved. Practically all action in the book is built on a dialogue. Places and settings are seen through the prism of characters, their feelings, emotions and moods.

For me, this is the story of moving out of one’s comfort zone while entering an unfamiliar cultural and social landscape. It’s about establishing yourself while pursuing your goals and dreams. It’s about relations that we have with our families, friends, colleagues, it’s about love, career driven choices we make and betrayals we face. It’s about decisions that define or affect us.

Originally the book was written in Russian, which is second to my native language, and then I decided to give it a try and translated it into English. You would probably ask why? Well… although it may sound very ambitious, I wanted to attempt and enter the market that has a long tradition of the women’s fiction genre. That was the start of a long journey that every new author undergoes… A long process of rewriting, polishing, finding an editor, editing, sending it to the publisher and waiting for the day when the book would finally be out. I chose the self publishing route as it gave me more freedom and more involvement in the actual process as an author. Overall it was a very enriching, challenging, fulfilling experience that I wouldn’t trade to any other.

That day when I first held the author copy of my book was magical. I got a call from a DHL saying they had a parcel for me. I ran home breathless from the park where I was walking my dog. There it was… my book…. finally live with a beautiful cover – a girl standing on the road, unaware of turbulent, funny, unforgettable adventures that were ahead of her. This time, my own publishing journey was over while hers was just about to start.

MediaKit_BookCover_FridayEveningEightOClockTasha is a dreamer in search of a new dream.

She’s bored with Pilates. She’s never tried yoga. She doesn’t even have a driver’s license. She lives a pretty ordinary life as a freelance writer who battles the occasional flow of melancholy with the regular flow of martinis. Nestled into her couch, her television remote in one hand and a cold adult beverage in the other, she’s found a favorite way to pass the hours on a Friday evening. It’s comfortable and familiar, but it’s not exactly an exciting way to live. With two of her closest friends, a bossy mother, an eighty-two year old grandmother, and Griffin, her fat yellow Labrador at her side, she knows that there has to be something better out there.

But where?

When she gets an unexpected offer to relocate to France to write a magazine column, she thinks her circumstances are improving. But life in a new country isn’t all pêches et la crème. Now far away from her comfort zone, Tasha must find the inner strength to start a new career and navigate the bizarre and unknown world of professional jealousy, intrigue, and conflicting personalities in a very foreign land.

It’s enough to make a girl yearn for those quiet nights on the couch.

Enjoy an excerpt:

“Hey Liz, it’s me, what’s up?” Balthazar finally got through to her. “Listen, where did you get it?”

“Get what?”

“That unromantic goddess piece. Very nicely done, Liz. Find the author as soon as possible, please. I need her here. You can do it, right?”

“Sure I can, Balthazar. The only thing is, she lives in another country. It will probably take time.”

“Hope you can arrange everything, her work permit, visa, and all. I need her as a columnist. I’m thinking of starting a new column right away. Well, that’s all I wanted to say. See you later, Liz.”

What an asshole! thought Liz, with her lips pressed to her old cell phone. She didn’t have time to buy a new one. She barely had time for anything more than her job lately. She was becoming a workaholic and hated herself for that discovery. Okay, fine! I will try to reach the unromantic goddess by phone and send her an email. That’s it. Come on, Balthazar, the new issue is just a week away, and I don’t think it’s perfect timing for a newcomer to come in. I’m not your secretary, after all!

Liz took a last sip of coffee and suddenly brightened. A good cup of coffee always changed her mood.

She opened her laptop and easily found what she was looking for in her database of new authors. There she was. Her name was Tasha. She looked young and wore big glasses. Her haircut was simply awful.

That’s fine. Her haircut can be changed, Liz thought as she started typing an email.

About the Author:MediaKit_AuthorPhoto_FridayNightEightOClockNino Gugunishvili holds an MA in arts and has worked in film and television industries. Friday Evening, Eight O’clock is her first published work of fiction. She lives in Tbilisi, Georgia.

Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads

Buy the book at Archway Publishing, Amazon, Barnes and Noble, or Google Books.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Baked by Colleen Charles – Spotlight and Giveaway

MBB_Baked_Banner copy

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Colleen will be awarding a $25 Amazon or B/N GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour. NOTE: THIS BOOK IS FREE!

perf5.000x8.000.inddAlly

The first time I saw Gabe in my sensual cupcake bakery, I had no idea who he was. All I knew was chiseled perfection like him could never really want a girl like me. That didn’t stop me from craving and lusting after everything I could never have. Success.
Gabe.

And I was trapped in a twisted frenemy relationship with my douche bag ex fiancee. I never would have dreamed who Gabe really was, what he wanted and why he wanted it.

Gabe

My f*cked up family taught me a lot. Take rather than give. Anything. Everything.

Ally made me feel clean. Whole. I’d do anything to have her and even more to keep her. In spite of my past but more importantly … because of it.

I took her tenuous control and worshiped her killer curves. I never suspected she’d steal my heart.

Enjoy an excerpt:

Blackness and strange noises rang through the gloom. What was this? I floated through it, as though I didn’t have a body, couldn’t feel any sensations. I was pretty sure I’d died, but heaven was black and smoky. Or had I gone to hell?

Then, there were voices, strange tones which skipped and repeated.

“Miss?” A gravelly voice, deep and comforting pierced the despotic darkness. “Can you hear me?”

Strong arms enveloped me, lifting me from the floor. I cracked an eyelid and slammed it shut again immediately. The smoke remained thick and the burning was so bad I couldn’t see through the moisture pooling in my eyes, the flood of tears protecting them. The crackle of fire returned in a rush and my body turned rigid in response.

“It’s okay. I’ve got you,” he murmured, and folded me closer to his hard chest. Safe. I felt safe in his arms. He took measured steps. “Is there anyone else in here? Anyone who needs help.”

I shook my head as a bout of coughing took over any ability to speak. Shouts rang out, men rushed by, disturbing the smoke, creating a whirlwind of warm air which brushed the sweaty strands of hair clinging to my forehead. It felt like a film of smoke and perspiration had encased my entire body.

“Codsworth,” I choked.

“What?” he asked. He had to be a fireman. Fresh air now. Or, was it him? He had the most amazing smell. I couldn’t open my eyes, could hardly breathe, but the scent of some woodsy cologne — Gucci? — permeated my nostrils through the haze of soot that lingered there.

“Codsworth,” I repeated. “My cat. He’s upstairs.” I clutched his arm with all my remaining strength. “Please …”

“Don’t worry,” he replied. “I’ll get him for you.” He quickened his pace and I clung to him with arms like noodles, resting my head against the fire retardant suit. He was as hard as a rock and for some reason, I felt like everything would be okay as he took charge.

The air grew clearer; there was a rush of wind and sound. Sirens blared, people chattered.

“Oh my God, can you believe it,” a woman said nearby.

“It doesn’t look too bad.” That was a man’s voice. Spectators probably, but my eyes were too scratchy to open yet and I didn’t even want to try.

“Here, take her,” the firefighter carrying me said, his deep voice raspier with the smoke. Then he placed me on a bed, a stretcher. Fingers brushed my ear, and the heat of his breath penetrated. “I’ll come back after I’ve found Codsworth. You’re safe now,” he promised, all calm confidence.

My skin erupted in tingles as gooseflesh spread across my skin. I forced my eyes open, staring through the blur of tears, but he was already gone.

“Who—?”

“You’re fine now, just relax.” A woman in a paramedic outfit appeared beside me and placed an oxygen mask on my face.

I frowned at her, my eyes had cleared pretty fast, though my chest still felt croaky. My limbs were floppy too. None of it mattered compared to losing the bakery. Or Codsworth.

I tried to pull the mask off, but she stopped me.

“No, you rest now. There’ll be enough time for talking later.” The medic lifted a flashlight and checked one eye then the other. “Looks okay there.”

I let her carry on with her protocol, but I felt stronger by the minute. I’d inhaled a bit of smoke. I’d not been burned to a crisp. The blessed oxygen flooded my lungs, clearing my mind and body. But still, I was exhausted. To the bone.

About the Author:MediaKit_AuthorPhoto_BakedColleen Charles is the pen name of Tami Stark, #1 Bestselling Author on Amazon.

Colleen Charles held a leadership position for a fortune 500 company for 26 years while writing suspenseful romance by night. Thrilled that she’s now able to write full time, she can’t wait to spend more time connecting with her readers. She’s also a certified life coach and a Reiki Master. She loves reading and writing stories that entertain and sweep women away from their everyday life. Colleen has shown and bred Arabian horses for over 30 years and lives in the Midwest with her human and furry families. In her spare time, she enjoys volunteering for underprivileged girls and homeless pets.

Baked is FREE on Kindle or Nook during the tour.

FOUR FREE BOOKS: check out Colleen’s website.

Facebook | Twitter

The book is FREE at Amazon, iBooks, Kobo, or Barnes and Noble.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Hit the Billionaire Jackpot by Nana Malone and Misty Evans – Spotlight and Giveaway

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by the publisher. Enter the Rafflecopter at the end of the post for a chance to win a $25.00 gift card to Amazon or iBooks or one of three digital copies of Hit & Run Bride.

2_10 book coverAs the new president of the 3 Wishes Foundation, Jenna McIntyre gets to make dreams come true for kids with disabilities. Once in awhile, she gets to make her own dreams come true as well. Like meeting her teenage crush, pop star Hawke Thorn, whose angsty songs helped her recover from a hit-and-run accident ten years ago and who is now one of the nominees for the 3 Wishes Donor of the Year event in Las Vegas. Jenna’s based her “ideal man” checklist on Hawke and now has the chance of a lifetime to actually land Hawke himself. But catching Hawke’s eye requires the romantically-challenged Jenna to seek love lessons from the other nominee—sexy, opinionated, billionaire playboy Jacob Swinton.

Jacob Swinton may have a secret soft spot for kids and family, but there’s no way he’s making that public knowledge. His continuing success depends on the world seeing him as a self-possessed, calculating businessman. He’s never had to compete for anything, so when he finds out he’s not a shoe-in for the 3 Wishes foundation Donor of the Year Award, and his competition is drunken, slovenly, pop star Hawke Thorne, Jacob says game on. What’s there to worry about? But when Jenna asks him for love lessons, he has no idea the real competition is for her heart.

About the Authors:

2_10 NanaMaloneUSA Today Bestselling Author Nana Malone’s love of all things romance and adventure started with a tattered romantic suspense she borrowed from her cousin on a sultry summer afternoon in Ghana at a precocious thirteen. She’s been in love with kick butt heroines ever since.

With her overactive imagination, and channeling her inner Buffy, it was only a matter a time before she started creating her own characters. Waiting for her chance at a job as a ninja assassin, Nana meantime works out her drama, passion, and sass with fictional characters every bit as sassy and kick butt as she thinks she is.

Nana is the author of twenty novels. And the books in her series have been on multiple Amazon Kindle and Barnes & Noble bestseller lists as well as the iTunes Breakout Books list and most notably the USA Today Bestseller list.

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads | Newsletter

2_10 Misty Evans PhotoUSA TODAY Bestselling Author Misty Evans has published over twenty novels and writes romantic suspense, urban fantasy, and paranormal romance. As a writing coach, she helps other authors bring their books – and their dreams of being published – to life.

The books in her Super Agent series have won a CataNetwork Reviewers’ Choice Award, CAPA nominations, the New England Reader’s Choice Bean Pot Award for Best Romantic Suspense in 2010 and the ACRA Heart of Excellence Reader’s Choice Award for Best Romantic Suspense in 2011.

Her Witches Anonymous series was dubbed a Fallen Angel Reviews Recommended Read. The Super Agent Series, Witches Anonymous Series, and the Kali Sweet Series have been on multiple Amazon Kindle bestsellers lists. Her culinary romantic mystery, THE SECRET INGREDIENT, and the first book in her Deadly series, DEADLY PURSUIT, are both USA TODAY bestsellers.

Misty likes her coffee black, her conspiracy stories juicy, and her wicked characters dressed in couture. When not reading or writing, she enjoys music, movies, and hanging out with her husband, twin sons, and two spoiled puppies.

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads | Newsletter | Pinterest

Buy the book at Amazon,  iBooks, or Kobo.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

By Break of Day by M.L. Buchman – Q&A and Giveaway

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized to celebrate the release of M.L. Buchman’s new book By Break of Day. Enter the Rafflecopter at the end of the post to win a Night Stalkers bundle of books.

This month, M. L. Buchman raises the stakes—and the heat—in By Break of Day, the latest in his acclaimed Night Stalkers series. To celebrate Buchman joins us on the blog to share an excerpt and answer a quick Q&A!

Can you tell us one thing we may not know about you?

I have a black belt in Taekwondo. Everyone kept telling me how impressive it was that I had earned one when I was fifty. And all except my wife missed the real reason. I got one because I wanted my kid to have one also before heading off to college. We earned it together. The day college began, I stopped.

2_10 buchman book coverNAME: Kara Moretti
RANK: Captain of the Army’s stealthiest remote piloted aircraft (Don’t call it a drone)
MISSION: To be the eyes of the team

NAME: Justin “The Cowboy” Roberts
RANK: Captain of the Army’s most powerful helicopter
MISSION: To redeem the past, at any cost

They Put Life, Limb, and Heart on the Line
Two new captains join The Night Stalkers with two different strategies in life, love, and combat. When Brooklyn-raised Kara joins the crew, she knows one thing as an absolute truth: to stay safe, keep everything and everyone at a distance. Born in Texas, Justin knows only one honorable way to make up for losing his first crew to a suicide bomber: he flies with all his heart. When Kara and Justin collide on a top secret mission deep in the Israeli desert, then the battle truly begins.

Enjoy an excerpt:

Captain Justin Roberts flies a massive Chinook twin-rotor helicopter. Captain Kara Moretti flies a drone and is trying out to be the Air Mission Commander during a training exercise.

Captain Justin Roberts gave the collective control between his knees a little nudge forward. Fifteen tons of helicopter carrying a platoon of U.S. Rangers and their gear eased forward as smooth as a baby’s behind.

Every single time he flew his big MH-47G “Golf” Chinook helicopter, it was a surprise—a surprise of how much fun it was. Like they were meant for each other since long before they met.

SOAR only flew three primary types of helos, all deeply modified to the 160th’s specification. The Little Bird, the Black Hawk, and the Chinook Golf. His girl was the monster of the outfit. Calamity Jane was definitely a Texas-sized lady: big, powerful, and dangerous.

“I feel the need for a song.”

“Oh God, spare us.” Danny Corvo spoke up from the copilot seat. From there he was Justin’s second set of eyes and the master of the helo’s general health and well-being.

“Oh, give me a home,” Carmen cut in from her position at the starboard gun close behind Justin’s seat.

Carmen Parker was hot shit with an M134 minigun that could unload four thousand rounds-a-minute of hell on anyone who messed with her. She was also king, er, queen of the bird—the absolute last word on maintenance and loading.

“Where the Chinook helos roam.” Talbot George was always off-key at the side gun behind Danny’s copilot position, but he sang with heart, even if with a distinctly British accent.

“And the flights are at night every day,” the three of them sang together in splendidly awful harmony.

Danny groaned as if in the throes of death-by-torture agony.

As usual, Raymond Hines kept his own counsel at the rear ramp gunner’s post. The Chinook was the size of a school bus inside. Tonight, in the cargo area between the cockpit and Ray’s rear post, thirty U.S. Rangers and their three ATVs were counting on SOAR to sling them into position. The big rotors fore and aft let her lift her own weight in cargo; even in high-hot conditions the Chinook outperformed most everything around.

By the third chorus their harmonies were better, so Justin hit the transmit switch for the last of it. It got the answering transmission he was hoping for.

“Justin, honey?”

“Here for you, sweetheart.” Kara Moretti just slayed him. From the first briefing where she’d moseyed in all dark and Italian and perfect, his head had been turned hard enough that he kept checking his neck for whiplash. Then when she opened her mouth and poured out thick Brooklyn… Two months later and he still didn’t know what to do with that, not a bit of it. It was all… wrong, yet it was so right. Her voice should be some sweet bella signora, like the one he’d spent a week with while stationed at Camp Darby outside of Pisa on the Italian coast a couple years back.

Instead Kara was—

“You do that to me again and you’re gonna be singing soprano the rest of your life. We clear, Cowboy?”

—a hundred percent, New York. “Y’all wouldn’t do that to me now, would ya?” He laid it on thick.

“Castrate the bull calf? In a heartbeat. And I ain’t your sweetheart.”

“I’ll hold him down while you trim ’em,” Lola Maloney called in from the DAP Hawk.

He was about to say something about how it made the meat taste more luscious and tender—which was why they castrated most bull calves—but he couldn’t figure out how to phrase it without it sounding crude and perhaps tempting her to start looking for some neutering shears when Trisha cut in.

“Roger that! We’ll pin him, you chop and cauterize. Use a really hot iron.”

Claudia Jean Gibson at the controls of the Maven II didn’t speak much, but he could feel her out there agreeing with them.
Justin winced in imagined pain, as he was sure every man on the comm circuit did. He figured maybe it would be better if he kept his mouth shut. Once the women of the 5D got on a roll, wasn’t no man on God’s green earth who was safe.

About the Author: M. L. Buchman has over 35 novels and an ever-expanding flock of short stories in print. His military romantic suspense books have been named Barnes & Noble and NPR “Top 5 of the year,” Booklist “Top 10 of the Year,” and RT “Top 10 Romantic Suspense of the Year.” In addition to romantic suspense, he also writes contemporaries, thrillers, and fantasy and science fiction.

In among his career as a corporate project manager he has: rebuilt and single-handed a fifty-foot sailboat, both flown and jumped out of airplanes, designed and built two houses, and bicycled solo around the world.

He is now a full-time writer, living on the Oregon Coast with his beloved wife. He is constantly amazed at what you can do with a degree in Geophysics. You may keep up with his writing at .

Buy the book at Amazon, iBooks, BAM, Barnes and Noble, Chapters, Indiebound, or Kobo

a Rafflecopter giveaway

My Publishing Journey by Judy Penz Sheluk – Guest Post and Giveaway

NBTM_TheHangedMansNoose_Banner copy

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Judy Penz Sheluk will be awarding $25 Amazon or Barnes and Noble GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

My Publishing Journey
by Judy Penz Sheluk

I began writing The Hanged Man’s Noose on Christmas Eve, 2011. That may seem like an odd day to start a first novel, but I’m a freelance writer/editor in my day jobs (yes, jobs with an “s”) and for the first time in ages, I found myself with ten days off and no real plans beyond the usual Christmas dinners. By the end of that “vacation,” I was hooked, and for the next several months I wrote every single day. Sometimes it was only for a half hour, sometimes a few hours, but I was on a mission.

In June 2012, I met with an agent at the Bloody Words Mystery Writing Conference in Toronto. She loved my premise: a greedy real estate developer comes to a small town with plans to build a mega-box store on the town’s historic Main Street. She asked me to send her the full manuscript when I finished the novel. I didn’t realize, at the time, that most agents won’t even listen to a pitch unless a book is ready for submission, and certainly never from a beginning writer. Sometimes ignorance really is bliss!

I told my husband, family and friends. Drank champagne. Celebrated. Danced in my pj’s. The fact that I was still on the first draft of my very first novel seemed like such a minor point. Surely I’d have the book finished within a few months. Visions of advances danced through my head.

Spurred on by the agent’s enthusiasm, I completed the first draft by September. Reread and revised it in October and November. Polished it up in December and sent it to two friends to read in January 2013. Got their feedback in February, made another round of minor revisions, and voila! I was ready to submit.

I drafted up a decent query letter, reminded the agent of our meeting and waited. Six weeks went by without so much as a word. Was it too soon to follow up? I had no idea what the protocol was, but since I hadn’t received an acknowledgment to my first email submission, I decided to send another email. This turned out to be wise; she hadn’t, in fact, received the first email. On the plus side, she did remember me, and encouraged me to resubmit the entire novel, along with a bio, synopsis and marketing plan.

The bio wasn’t difficult. I had a professional bio as a freelance writer and editor. The synopsis was almost as difficult as writing the book. For those of you unfamiliar with a synopsis, it’s a one to two page document that tells the entire story, from start to finish, including the ending. That’s right: you are expected to boil 70,000 words down to less than 1,000 (and some agents/publishers want no more than 500 words). As for the marketing plan, I didn’t even have a website yet, let alone a Twitter account, Facebook page or Pinterest profile. I wrote that I was working on all four. Then I took a website course and got started.

I’d like to tell you that this dream agent wrote back with an offer of representation, but the reality is after four months of waiting, I received this email:

“Thank you so much for your patience while I reviewed this project! After much debate and multiple reads, we’re ultimately going to pass. I think that your voice is superb, and the premise is very strong, I just didn’t fall entirely in love with the characters. Please know that this was not an easy decision, and I genuinely wish you the very best with it.”

Did the rejection sting? Of course it did. The first cut really IS the deepest, if only because it marks the first loss of innocence. So I did what anyone would do. I cried. Shamefacedly confessed my failure to my family and friends. Brooded and ate junk food. Read about famous authors and their experience with rejection before they were published. Their stories gave me hope.

After a couple of weeks of feeling sorry for myself, I went back over my manuscript and started the revision process all over again, this time with an eye to making my characters “more lovable,” or at least more memorable. Then I hired a developmental editor—something I should have done in the first place—and dissected chapter by chapter, adding here, cutting there. The end result was a much stronger book. Unfortunately, we only get one chance with an agent or publisher, unless of course, they encourage you to resubmit. My dream agent hadn’t done that, but because of her encouragement, I completed my first novel, sent it out in the world to be read, and learned from rejection. For that, I’ll be forever grateful.

Here’s what I learned from this experience (and you can too):

• Don’t submit your story before it’s truly ready. Most beginning writers get impatient (and I was no exception). Remember this: you get one chance at an agent or publisher. There are no “do-overs.”

• Once your story is polished to perfection: Don’t query just one agent or publisher, regardless of how enthusiastic they may seem about your project. Writing is subjective and reputable agents are paid ONLY upon the sale of your books. Unknown writers are not on the top of their client wish list.

• Start building your Social Media platform early and methodically. The days of agents and/or publishers doing all (or even most) of the marketing are over. Slow and steady wins this race.

• Learn how to write a decent synopsis. Take a course. Study examples online. Try not to be daunted by the process.

• Believe in your story. Rejection is part of every writer’s life. Kathryn Stockett, author of The Help, was rejected 60 times before getting a publishing contract. Learn from it, and move on.

MediaKit_BookCover_TheHangedMansNooseSmall-town secrets and subterfuge lead to murder in a tale of high-stakes real estate wrangling gone amok.

Journalist Emily Garland lands a plum assignment as the editor of a niche magazine based in Lount’s Landing, a small town named after a colorful Canadian traitor. As she interviews the local business owners for the magazine, Emily quickly learns that many people are unhappy with real estate mogul Garrett Stonehaven’s plans to convert an old schoolhouse into a mega-box store. At the top of that list is Arabella Carpenter, the outspoken owner of the Glass Dolphin antiques shop, who will do just about anything to preserve the integrity of the town’s historic Main Street.

But Arabella is not alone in her opposition. Before long, a vocal dissenter at a town hall meeting about the proposed project dies. A few days later, another body is discovered, and although both deaths are ruled accidental, Emily’s journalistic suspicions are aroused.

Putting her reporting skills to the ultimate test, Emily teams up with Arabella to discover the truth behind Stonehaven’s latest scheme—before the murderer strikes again.

Enjoy an excerpt:

The faint scent of vanilla filled Emily’s nostrils. “Pure vanilla extract, the real stuff, not the imitation kind,” a man’s voice called from the back of the store. “Stir one tablespoon into a gallon of paint and you get rid of that new paint smell. I add it to every gallon I sell.” He came out into the open, held out his hand, and smiled. “Emily Garland, I presume.”

The main thing Emily noticed about Johnny Porter, beyond the fact he was roughly her age and drop-dead movie star gorgeous, were his eyes. Eyes so dark brown they looked black. Miner’s eyes, her old pals at boarding school would have called them, the kind of eyes that could dig their way into the depth of your soul. Emily made an effort to collect herself. Acting like an infatuated high school student was not the way to start off her new life in Lount’s Landing.

“And you must be Johnny Porter.” Emily shook his hand, noticing his grip was firm but gentle. Thought his hand lingered a moment longer than necessary. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Likewise,” Johnny said, although Emily got the distinct feeling he was assessing her. She wondered if she made the grade.

About the Author:MediaKit_AuthorPhoto_TheHangedMansNooseJudy Penz Sheluk’s debut mystery, The Hanged Man’s Noose: A Glass Dolphin Mystery was released in July 2015 through Barking Rain Press. Her short crime fiction appears in The Whole She-Bang 2, World Enough and Crime, and Flash and Bang. In her less mysterious pursuits, Judy is the Senior Editor for New England Antiques Journal and the Editor for Home BUILDER Magazine. Judy is a member of Sisters in Crime, Crime Writers of Canada, International Thriller Writers, and the Short Mystery Fiction Society. Find Judy on her website where she blogs about the writing life and interviews other authors.

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Pinterest | Triberr | Amazon Author Page

Buy the book at AbeBooks, Amazon, Barnes and Noble, Chapters/Indigo, or Kobo.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

How to Wed a Warrior by Christy English – Spotlight and Giveaway

2_9 how to wed a warrior banner

A Lady’s Guide to Proper (Mis)Behavior by Mrs. Prudence Whittaker on Proper Ton Etiquette (with additions by Miss Mary Elizabeth Waters) “A lady never eats the last cake on the tea tray.” —Mrs. Prudence “A lady may eat the last tea cake, as long as she calls for more, or better yet, goes and gets them herself.” —Mary Elizabeth


This post is part of a virtual book tour to celebrate the recent release of How to Wed a Warrior, Book 2 in the Broadswords and Ballrooms series by Christy English. Enter the Rafflecopter for a chance to win a copy of the first book in the series, How to Seduce a Scot.

2_9 How to Wed a Warrior coverHe’s the scourge of the Season…

Reasons to quit London:
1. It’s not the Highlands.
2. It will never be the Highlands.
3. It’s full of the bloody English.

When his wild spitfire of a sister makes a scene by drawing a claymore in Hyde Park, Highlander Robert Waters knows something must be done. To forestall the inevitable scandal, he hires widowed Prudence Whittaker to teach his sister how to be a lady—never expecting to find unbridled passion beneath the clever Englishwoman’s prim exterior.

Mrs. Whittaker is a fraud. Born Lady Prudence Farthington, daughter of the ruined earl of Lynwood, she’s never even been married. In order to make her way in the world, she has to rely on her wits and a web of lies…lies a sexy Highlander is all too close to unraveling.

He swears he will possess her; she vows he will do nothing of the sort. Yet as passions heat, Prudence comes to realize the illicit pleasure that can be had in going toe-to-toe with a Scot.

Enjoy an excerpt:

Robert’s eyes gleamed with mischief—and with something else, something darker, and a bit alarming. Pru’s stomach jumped at the sight of that heat, and a delicious shiver coursed through her.

When he spoke again, his voice was thick with the music of his homeland, and with something else. “Well, now, and don’t I love a woman with a backbone.”

“I’m sure you do. Now leave this room and go find one.”

“Aye,” he said, moving closer to her. She straightened her shoulders, and sniffed. His smile was infectious, and she had to work very hard not to give in and smile back.

“I do love a sniffing woman. A woman who knows her own mind, and isn’t shy about telling the world.”

“That is very edifying. I am sure there are many such women outside these four walls. Again, Mr. Waters, I bid you good day.”

Robert laughed and shook his head, stepping even closer until he was standing a mere two feet from her.

She took in the warm scent of cedar, and a hint of something else, some spice that was all Robert Waters and little else. She was sure that if he stood so close for much longer, she would lose the ability to speak at all.

“But you see, Mrs. Prudence, that’s the trouble. There are very few women beyond these four walls that speak their minds to a man and damn the consequences.”

“Honesty is its own reward.” Her heart thudded so hard that the pulse in her throat leaped. His eyes seemed to follow it, and then move up the line of her jaw, to her cheekbones, to her eyes.

“I wonder if it might reward me,” he said.

He closed the distance between them, and kissed her.

She had been kissed before, of course. She had been a debutante during the Peninsular War, when everyone thought that the young men around them were surely going to die. She had almost been engaged, and her swain had kissed her on the garden steps of her father’s house in the moonlight, so many years ago now that it seemed to have happened to another woman altogether. But this kiss was different, because Robert Waters offered it.

Pru shocked herself by accepting it for what it was—a warm touch in a world that was often very cold indeed.

She found herself pressed against him in the next instant. His hands did not come down on her. He did not touch her waist or her shoulders, but held his hands aloft, as if she kept him at gunpoint. She did not think of what that meant, but simply moved against him, taking in the heat of his body with her own. If only she might close the door and ignore her life and future and simply have him there in that lovely, overly luxurious room.

She felt his tongue on her lips, and she opened her mouth to his coaxing. He tasted of warm honey from breakfast. He tasted of man, and in some strange, indefinable way, of home.

He still had not touched her but to place his lips on hers. He withdrew his tongue, and then his mouth, and then stepped back, so that she was left alone, grasping at nothing.

About the Author:

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

Ever since Christy English picked up a fake sword in stage combat class at the age of fourteen, she has lived vicariously through the sword-wielding women of her imagination. A banker by day and a writer by night, she loves to eat chocolate, drink too many soft drinks, and walk the mountain trails of her home in North Carolina.

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads

Buy the book at Amazon, Barnes and Noble, Apple, BAM, Indigo, or IndieBound.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Still Counting by Phil Fragasso – Exclusive Excerpt and Giveaway

ET_StillCounting_Banner copy

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Phil will be awarding a $25 Amazon or B/N GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

MediaKit_BookCover_StillCountingAdam Donatello and Nina Morales share an immediate and powerful attraction, and their future together seems assured. But love is difficult enough without adding complications – real or imagined – to the mix. Nina sees life as a thousand shades of gray, while Adam tends towards black-and-white. He wants to move fast; she needs time. Nina sees her past liaisons with women as immaterial to their relationship, while her disclosure drives Adam to a state of irrational jealousy. He doesn’t know how he could compete with a woman; and his suspicions – which Nina views as hypocritical – lead them both to make decisions they may live to regret.

Enjoy an exclusive excerpt:

Nina got into the driver’s seat and I leaned in to kiss her. She shook her head.

“Kissing in the car is gross,” she said. “How many times do I have to tell you?’

I extended my arm towards her. “Can we at least shake hands?”

“We could, but that would be stupid.” Nina handed me one of those sleep masks that the airlines give you on red-eyes and international flights. “Put these on, please.”

“You’re kidding, right?”

“Do I look like I’m kidding?”

Actually she did. She had scrunched her face into a scowl and narrowed her eyes, but the combination was far more comical than frightening. Plus, she was struggling to keep from giggling.

“Isn’t it a little early in our relationship to get kinky?” I said.

Nina crossed her arms. “I’m not into kink and I’m not into backtalk. So put on the damn blinders or go back upstairs. Your choice.”

“Yes, ma’am.” I slipped the sleep mask over my head and adjusted the straps.

“Can you see anything?” asked Nina.

“Nothing at all.”

“How do I know you’re telling the truth?”

“Test me.”

“How many fingers am I holding up?”

“Four.”

“You little liar. You can see perfectly well.”

She pronounced “perfectly” the way I would imagine an English nanny scolding a wayward child.

“It was a lucky guess, I swear. I can’t see a thing.”

“I know. I wasn’t holding up any fingers. So at least I know you’re honest. I like that in a man.”

Nina shifted the car and off we went.

“So where we going?” I asked.

She poked a finger into my shoulder. “If I wanted you to know where we were going do you really think I would have blindfolded you?”

“Good point. So how was your day?”

Nina cleared her throat. “Did I say you could talk?”

I shrugged. Maybe this chick really was a psycho who forgot to take her meds this morning. “I guess I thought it was assumed. It’s kind of what people do on this planet.”

“Things work a little different on Nina’s planet. So I’ll do the talking for both of us.”

“Uh, okay,” I stammered. “Sorry?”

At that point the giggle Nina had been suppressing turned into full-body, spasmodic laughter. “You are way too easy. You’re like the most gullible person I’ve ever met.”

About the Author: MediaKit_AuthorPhoto_StillCountingPhil Fragasso sold his first article at the age of 16. Since then he has written and published a wide variety of books, articles and essays. After many years as a corporate marketer, he left to pursue endeavors that were more fulfilling personally and more contributory on a societal level. Today he focuses his time on writing and teaching.

Buy the book at The Wild Rose Press, Amazon, iBooks, Barnes and Noble, or Kobo.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Kiss of a Stranger by Lily Danes and Eve Kincaid – Spotlight and Giveaway


This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. The authors will be awarding a $20 Amazon or B/N GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

Maddie Palmer lost everything when her ex-husband betrayed her. Years later, she’s rebuilt her life. It’s safe and stable—everything she thought she wanted. Until a dangerously sexy ex-con appears in Lost Coast Harbor…

Gabriel Reyes just did six years behind bars for a crime he didn’t commit. Now he’s returned, determined to expose the men who set him up. His best chance at redemption is seducing the straight-laced woman working for the enemy…until he realizes he’s the one being seduced.

As passion ignites, Gabe and Maddie find themselves drawn deeper into the corruption behind the town’s richest family… even while facing the greatest danger of all—losing their hearts.

Enjoy an excerpt:

“I had a lovely night, not that it’s any of your business.” The lie rolled off her tongue.

Gabe didn’t move. “I’m sure he was everything a date could be. Polite. Clever. Though it’s hard to take a man seriously when he orders the butternut squash ravioli at a restaurant that serves steak.”

“He’s a vegetarian,” she said absently, before the full meaning of his words settled on her. “Wait a second. You watched me? You spied on my date?” Her voice rose with every word, and only her desire not to wake the neighbors kept her from shouting.

Gabe shook his head. It was a rueful motion, directed more at himself than her. “I started to. Then I remembered that was creepy as hell and went to the diner. Where I ordered steak and eggs, by the way.”

“Still, the fact that you thought that was okay, even for a second…”

He stood, the movement fluid and hypnotic, and she couldn’t take her eyes off him as he prowled toward her. “Don’t fool yourself, Maddie. I’m not okay. I forgot how to be okay long ago. That’s what you’ll get with me, but I’ll do my best to make it worth your time, if you feel like taking a risk.”

About the Author:

Like so many good ideas, Lost Coast Harbor was inspired by a few rounds of margaritas. One sunny afternoon, Lily Danes and Eve Kincaid went to a Mexican restaurant for snacks and tequila and left with the idea for a new series. Inspired by their love of noir movies and 1940s crime novels, they imagined a gritty small town full of crime and corruption, where intrigue and mystery can lead to love and passion.

Series Website | Author Website – Lily Danes | Author Website – Eve Kincaid | Goodreads

Buy the book at Amazon.

a Rafflecopter giveaway