Monday, January 26, 2015

A #RockingRomance Knights Vampire and a Chat with Harriet Mortlake

Hello. Have you come for the guided tour of the castle? The guide’s not here yet, but I’m Harriet Mortlake, hitborough Castle’s archivist. I’ll answer any questions you might have while we wait.

NO? Then I'll tell you about my role. I couldn’t believe it when I landed this job, but we have that saying, “Be careful what you wish for…”

Sorry. It’s just that sometimes I get this someone’s-watching me feeling. When Castles Management Trust told me the last two archivists had vanished, I thought it was family problems or something. I didn’t know it was a police matter. Now I feel nervous whenever I access the archives.

What was that? No we don’t have a ghost that I know of, and certainly not one who runs off with archivists.

Anyway back to Whitborough. It’s my favorite seaside town. One of my best childhood memories is me walking along the North Bay foreshore, hand in hand with my granddad. He was eating a waffle topped with banana and whipped cream and I had the biggest chocolate ice cream ever.

I think that’s when I became addicted to ice cream. I guess you can tell by my hips. Honestly, there isn’t a diet I haven’t tried—or failed to stick to.

Low carb                                NO chips. No way.

Low calorie                            I can’t give up ice cream and cake.

Paleo                                      Nothing processed. That definitely doesn’t fit my lifestyle.

Cabbage Soup                     Just thinking about it makes me feel sick.

Why is everything I like bad for me? At least cocoa beans grow on trees, and as far as I’m concerned that makes them one of my five a day.

Hi Mandy, I’ve just been chatting with your tour group. I’ll leave them in your capable hands now.
"
Bye everyone.




 

Betrayed by the Knight Defenders and murdered by his cousin, crusader knight Blaxton de Ferrers rose as a vampire. For nine centuries, he’s preyed on the people he once swore to protect. Gradually, as his emotions leach out of him, he forgets how to feel. Then he meets Harriet.



Harriet Mortlake’s a strong sassy woman who battles her weight and her temper. Her job is to seek out the ancient secrets of the castle that was Blaxton’s childhood home. Instead, she finds the love of her life.

When danger threatens Harriet, Blaxton steps in. Harriet and Blaxton, are a match made in heaven. Except… he’s a vampire and to fully claim her, he’ll have to kill her.

 

Buy links

Loose ID                    http://www.loose-id.com/knights-vampire.html

Amazon US author page    http://www.amazon.com/Kryssie-Fortune/e/B00J5AQOBU/ref=ntt_athr_dp_pel_1                      


 

Author Links

I’d love to hear from you, or answer any questions you might have.

Facebook                  https://www.facebook.com/kryssie.fortune

Twitter                                    https://twitter.com/KryssieFortune

Blog / Web site                     http://kryssiefortune.blogspot.co.uk/?zx=ccc4a46fd9391f4c

 

Excerpt

“How dare you embarrass me like that?” Harriet Mortlake planted her hands on her hips and glowered at the man she’d cornered outside the cafe. Spitting mad, she wanted to slap the condescending smile off his face. Normally, she was iceberg cool, but as hard as she tried to keep her expression neutral, she could feel lightning bolts flashing from her eyes. 

“It’s a temple, not a chapel,” he insisted.

Stubborn. Damn. Male. She’d been showing the big guns from the Castles’ Management Trust round the building, but they clearly thought her too young for her role as Whitborough Castle’s archivist. She’d almost been too angry to think when this know-it-all first sounded off. Now he infuriated her all over again.

Harriet snorted. “As if! No way would medieval Christians build a pagan temple on their grounds. Superstitious locals would probably have accused them of devil worship and burned them at the stake. Any fool knows that.”

Her degree in library science made her suitable for the post. The castle manager had told her afterward that she’d been the only applicant. She’d almost stuck her tongue out at the head office guys and yelled Beggars can’t be choosers.

Despite Mr. Condescending’s interference, she’d managed to impress the big bosses—she thought. He flashed her a smile so electrifying it would have lit up the dingy, underground chapel where he’d embarrassed her earlier. The way he sat there dripping sex appeal, her anger might have evaporated. If only he hadn’t needed to have the last word.

He took another sip of coffee. “You really should get your facts right.”

Stupid, arrogant male. She couldn’t decide whether to show him her diplomas and degrees or kick his shins. Professional to the core, she’d reined in her temper while the higher-ups carried out their inspection, but now that they’d left, she felt free to vent her rage.

Hands still on her hips, she tapped her foot at him. “Lost for words without an audience? Or maybe you can’t back up your cock-and-bull story? Put up or shut up, Mister. Tell me why you think it’s a temple.”

Mr. Condescending sat outside the tearoom as if he hadn’t a care in the world and enjoyed the early afternoon sunshine. He didn’t know it, but his interference when she’d shown the bigwigs into the chapel could have cost her a job she loved. Whitborough Castle’s extensive records needed cataloging, and she considered herself fortunate to work here. Only sometimes, she got a someone’s watching me feeling that unsettled her.

The last two archivists had vanished, and the police were “looking into it”—whatever that meant. Now people viewed the post as a poisoned chalice. Harriet knew an opportunity when she saw it, and she’d grabbed it with both hands. Everything should have been perfect, but it wasn’t. From day one—just four weeks ago—she’d felt as if the castle’s ghosts studied her as eagerly as she studied the records. Paranoid or what?

After an early start, she met the bigwigs from Castles’ Management Trust for the first time. Things had been going well. Okay, they’d been surprised by her youth, and clearly considered her too inexperienced for the post of archivist. By the time they reached the chapel, she’d almost won them over. Then Mr. Condescending here stuck his oar in, and if she hadn’t handled him right, she’d probably have lost her job.

Teeth gritted, Harriet had thanked him for his interest and told him politely that he was mistaken. Intimidating and so tall she had to look up to see his face, he made her think of the Norman conquerors who’d built the castle. He was all muscle, sex, and sin—but his stubborn assertion that the chapel had been a temple sparked her temper.

Her mouth had watered when she’d first seen him, but his cavalier attitude infuriated her. If her employers hadn’t been watching, she’d have told him exactly what she thought. She’d have regretted it later—maybe—but her temper had helped her survive ever since as a young girl she’d dragged her mother to the women’s shelter.

There he went with that dazzling smile again. He had to be the most handsome man she’d seen in… Well, forever. His masculine essence—sandalwood and exotic spices—wrapped warm tendrils around her heart. Her breasts perked up beneath her blouse, and they ached for his touch.

Her favorite bra suddenly felt so tight it abraded her nipples like sandpaper, and an unfamiliar tingling started in her cunt. Why did her anger evaporate, just because he smiled? What sort of fool woman caved just because a man had the most kissable lips ever? Lips she wanted to taste…repeatedly. Not that having such a tempting mouth made him less condescending. She paused, seeking the right riposte to tear him to shreds.

He stood up and held out his hand. “Pleased to meet you. I’m Blaxton de Ferrers.”

His voice—a deep, masculine rumble that made her want to beg him to say her name—thrilled her more than his smile. This man just kept getting better, but she’d come here to confront him, not drag him over the table and kiss him until they ran out of breath.

Something wild, almost primal, stirred inside her, but she wasn’t the sort of predatory female who encouraged strange men into her bed. Apart from one disastrous night with Martin, she was practically a virgin. Afterward, he’d told his friends she was frigid, and they’d christened her “the ice queen.” She’d squared her shoulders and stood tall—half an inch short of six feet—and ignored them. But her dating confidence had sunk to zero. After that she’d channeled her anger into her studies rather than sex.

Today her body went into sensual overdrive and demanded— Hell, she wasn’t sure what she wanted, but it was all bound up in Blaxton de Ferrers, aka Mr. Condescending.

He told her quietly, “It’s polite to shake someone’s hand when they offer it.”

She kept her hands firmly on her hips. Where did this jerk get off, reprimanding her about her manners? He took condescending to a whole new level, but he’d picked on the wrong girl when he’d heckled her. “Not when they damn near cost me my job. I needed to make a good impression, and you took over like you knew everything there is to know about this place. And heads-up, Mister. It’s rude to stare at my breasts.”

He grinned again. His smile melted her heart and warmed her soul. “Actually, I was staring at your name tag. Harriet’s a pretty name. It suits you.”

Talk about open mouth and insert foot. Harriet blushed and wished she’d said nothing. And hang on… De Ferrers? The family who once owned this castle? Someone once told Harriet she was part cat—always curious, always asking questions—and she supposed they’d been right.

She silently ran through the property’s history. Henry II had gifted the lands to Peter de Ferrers, and he’d turned the wooden stronghold into a magnificent castle. Maybe Mr. Condescending was a distant descendant of the original family.

Blaxton flashed that smile again, the one that made her heart beat double-time. He had to be the tallest man she’d ever seen. Not a beanpole, just a wide-shouldered, broad-chested piece of perfection.

He rested on hand on her arm. “Harriet, I’m sorry if I was out of line this morning. Let me make amends with coffee and cake; then I’ll explain why it’s a temple.”



Copyright © Kryssie Fortune


Thanks for sharing,


Tina

 

Friday, January 23, 2015

Pregnancy Plan a #RockingRomance by #MFRWauthor @AuthorTinaGayle & Romantic Ideas

1. What romantic event would you like to see this year? Love to be invited to a wedding. Has been a few years and enjoy the celebration of love.


2. Name your favorite romantic tip – remember to say I love often with meaning.


3. What Rocking romance do you find intriguing. Miss Piggy and Kermit- can’t help but love them


4. What is your Rocking Romance flower? Indian Paintbrushes – you can only get them during the spring and you have to pick them.


5. Plan one romantic evening what would you do? Stay in and order in a pizza, watch a movie and snuggle on the couch. I like to keep things simple.



Pregnancy Plan


Jillian Wilson wants a baby and is willing to do just about anything to have one. Until her almost ex-boyfriend shows up at her hotel room door. Then she has to convince him she's not fooling around with his brother.

Now, Derrick is only to happy to help with her problem.

Can Jillian love him and leave him even when he is hurt in a car crash and now believes they are married?

 
Excerpt:

Derek entered the condo, exhausted from a day at the lake. He wanted a cold beer and a hot shower, in that order.
Good thing he’d strong-armed his brother into taking Kelly away for the weekend. He had the place to himself, and Jason and his fiancée could use the relief from the stress of planning their wedding.
Removing his sweaty shirt, he threw it over his shoulder, opened the refrigerator, and grabbed a Bud. With a quick twist of his wrist, he uncapped the bottle, and poured the cold liquid down his throat.
Now the shower.
He stepped around the bar separating the kitchen from the dining area. The light on the answering machine blinked. He hit the button.
“Uh, Jason, it’s Jillian.”
A picture of a shapely woman flashed through Derek’s mind.
“I don’t want you to worry. I’m not pregnant...”
“Holy shit!” Every big-brother, over-protective gene in his body kicked into gear.
The shattering sound of his beer bottle hitting the floor and his fist connecting with the wall doused the end of the message.
Could this be the reason Kelly was having second thoughts about marrying Jason?
****



 

Purchase ebook at



Wednesday, January 21, 2015

Tina Gayle's Tidings - What's Happening In My World @authortinagayle

Hi everyone,


One of the benefits of living in Southern California is that even though middle of winter, we can still get outside.






If you follow my travel blog, you know that Mike and I have been playing golf. I'm trying to work on my swing this year and hopefully break hundred.






On the writing side of my life, I have been working hard on a story for the more erotic side of my nature that is published under a different pseudonym. It's a long murder mystery so it's has eaten up a great deal of time.


I'm also booking authors on this blog for my annual #Eggcerpt exchange. So if you'd like to participate be sure to email me at tina9561@yahoo.com




On a more personal note, I'm excited about seeing my sons in the coming months. Matthew has been working hard at Skylight Theatre in Milwaukee, WI. He is an assistant stage manager and looks the theatre.






Pictures of theatre are on my travel blog https://tinagayle.wordpress.com/2014/12/05/skylight-music-theatre-in-milwaukee/


Hope everyone is having a great new year and life is treating you good,


All the best,


Tina






Monday, January 19, 2015

A #RockingRomance Rogue's Hostage by Linda McLaughlin and #Romantic Ideas




 



 

Rogue's Hostage

By Linda McLaughlin

Historical Romance

 

4 ½ stars and a Top Pick from Romantic Times!

Romantic Times Nominee—Best Small Press Romance of 2003!

2nd Place - Lorie Awards - Best Historical Romance!

 

His hostage... 

 

In 1758 the Pennsylvania frontier is wild, primitive and dangerous, where safety often lies at the end of a gun. Mara Dupré's life crumbles when a French and Indian war party attacks her cabin, kills her husband, and takes her captive. Marching through the wilderness strengthens her resolve to flee, but she doesn't count on her captor teaching her the meaning of courage and the tempting call of desire.

 

Her destiny...

 

French lieutenant Jacques Corbeau's desire for his captive threatens what little honor he has left.  But when Mara desperately offers herself to him in exchange for her freedom, he finds the strength to refuse and reclaims his lost self-respect. As the shadows of his past catch up to him, Jacques realizes that Mara, despite the odds, is the one true key to reclaiming his soul and banishing his past misdeeds forever.

 

Note: Rogue’s Hostage is part of the Romance Super Bundle, a boxed set of ten full-length novels.

 

Buy links:

Amazon: http://amzn.com/B00BJO26OY

ARe: https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-rogue039shostage-1163372-158.html

http://www.goodreads.com/photo/author/1216627.Linda_McLaughlin

B&N: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/books/1005663623

iBooks: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/rogues-hostage/id645211361?mt=11&uo=4

Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/291719

 

Buy links in HTML:

 




 

Excerpt:

 

(Note: This excerpt starts with Jacques lacing Mara’s bodice because she injured her wrist after she threatened him with a knife. It’s not the most romantic first kiss you’ll ever read.)

 

When he’d finished lacing her bodice, Corbeau took her chin in his strong brown hand and tipped her face up to meet his gaze. “Do not be too proud to ask for help when you need it.”

 

She glared up at him, her eyes narrowed with anger. “I don’t want you touching me. Not after yesterday.”

 

Gently he stroked her face. “I never meant to hurt you.”

 

She pulled away from him and held up her bandaged wrist. “What do you call this?”

 

A spark of anger flashed in his eyes. “I call it self-defense. Have you forgotten that you tried to kill me?”

 

“You forced me to do it,” she said defiantly. “You should have let me go.”

 

“Never. Not if I have to sleep with my back to a tree from now on.”

 

He advanced on her and she retreated, her alarm growing.

 

“Will you try to stab me in the back next time?”

 

“No,” she insisted, shaking her head wildly. “I don’t want to hurt you. I just want to be free.”

 

He stalked her until she was backed up against a tree with no room to maneuver. He moved closer, looming over her, heat emanating from his body. “I have no wish to hurt you either, madame,” he said in a husky voice.

 

“Then what do you want?” The moment the words were out, Mara wished she could snatch them back. She saw his intent in his eyes as his gaze focused on her lips.

 

She pushed against the hard muscles of his chest but to no avail. Easily he encircled her in his arms, one hand at her waist, the other tangling in the hair at her nape, pulling her head back. She couldn’t miss his musky smell as he pressed closer to her. Her knees were weakened by the quivering of her limbs, and she fisted her hands in the rough linen of his shirt.

 

“What do I want,” he whispered as he lowered his head, his breath hot against her face. “This. This is what I want.”

 

* * *

 

Jacques stared at her through half-closed eyes. The anger, frustration, and desire that fired his blood merged into an overwhelming need to kiss her. He claimed her mouth with his own, smothering her lips, knowing the kiss was rough and aggressive, but unable to stop. He wanted to silence her, subdue her, and make love to her all at once.

 

Her hands beat against his chest in time with the wild drumming of his heart. Then she went still, enduring his embrace, lips clamped tightly together.

 

Desire won out over anger. He eased the pressure of the kiss, letting his tongue trace the fullness of her lower lip, coaxing her mouth to open. His hand loosened, let go of her hair, and stroked the back of her neck.

 

 

Author bio:

 

Linda McLaughlin grew up with a love of books and history, so it's only natural she prefers writing historical romance. She loves transporting her readers into the past where her characters learn that, in the journey of life, love is the sweetest reward. Linda also writes steamy to erotic romance under the name Lyndi Lamont, and is one half of the writing team of Lyn O'Farrell.

 

You can find her online at http://lindalyndi.com




Twitter: @Lyndi Lamont https://twitter.com/LyndiLamont

 

Rocking Romance questions

 

1. What romantic event would you like to see this year? I’m looking forward to the California Dreamin’ Conference coming up in March. I always enjoy getting together with my romance writer friends.

 

2. Name your favorite romantic tip – Listen to your partner; so many couples talk past each other

 

3. What Rocking romance do you find intriguing (Miss Piggy and Kermit is mine)? I’m loving the romance between bad boy Killian Jones, aka Captain Hook, and good girl Emma Swan on Once Upon a Time. It has been fun to see the rascally pirate fall for the town sheriff.

 

4. What is your Rocking Romance flower? Roses are always classic, but orchids are beautiful and special.

 

5. Plan one romantic evening; what would you do? Since I live in Orange County… a walk on the beach at sunset. We have beautiful sunsets over the Pacific.


Thanks Linda for sharing,


Tina

 

Friday, January 16, 2015

#RockingRomance Ideas from #MFRWauthor Kim Iverson Headlee - #Excerpt from Liberty



1. What romantic event would you like to see this year?
I would love to go on an Arctic Circle cruise with my husband in the summer, and watch the auroras envelop the sky above us. It won't happen this summer, though, LOL!

2. Name your favorite romantic tip
Calculate the number of DAYS since your wedding, first date, first kiss, first... whatever, and then surprise your partner with a night out on the town. It will utterly stump him or her as to what the special occasion is! I can't take credit for this idea, however. My husband got it from a coworker, years ago, and surprised me on the 5000th day since our wedding anniversary.

3. What Rocking romance do you find intriguing?
Arthur and Guinevere, of course. Most romances don't carry the power to shape the destiny of two nations, but theirs did--as portrayed in my series The Dragon's Dove Chronicles (Dawnflight, Morning's Journey, etc.).

4. What is your Rocking Romance flower?
I am quite partial to the Peace rose.

5. Plan one romantic evening what would you do?
Dinner at a great restaurant that doesn't have any TVs! I'm not sure that would be my husband's idea of a romantic evening, however... :D
###

Love this book? Please join Kim's All-Stars Street Team!

TITLE – Liberty, second edition
SERIES – N/A
AUTHOR – Kim Iverson Headlee
GENRE – Historical Romance
PUBLICATION DATE – December 2014
LENGTH (Pages/# Words) – 462 pages/118K words
PUBLISHER – Pendragon Cove Press
COVER DESIGNER – Natasha Brown

“When the legend becomes fact, 
print the legend.”



Next blog tour is January 30 - February 28, 2015
Please sign up here, thanks!


SYNOPSIS
They hailed her “Liberty,” but she was free only to obey—or die.

Betrayed by her father and sold as payment of a Roman tax debt to fight in Londinium’s arena, gladiatrix-slave Rhyddes feels like a wild beast in a gilded cage. Celtic warrior blood flows in her veins, but Roman masters own her body. She clings to her vow that no man shall claim her soul, though Marcus Calpurnius Aquila, son of the Roman governor, makes her yearn for a love she believes impossible.

Groomed to follow in his father’s footsteps and trapped in a politically advantageous betrothal, Aquila prefers the purity of combat on the amphitheater sands to the sinister intrigues of imperial politics, and the raw power and athletic grace of the flame-haired Libertas to the adoring deference of Rome’s noblewomen.

When a plot to overthrow Caesar ensnares them as pawns in the dark design, Aquila must choose between the Celtic slave who has won his heart and the empire to which they both owe allegiance. Trusting no man and knowing the opposite of obedience is death, the only liberty offered to any slave, Rhyddes must embrace her arena name—and the love of a man willing to sacrifice everything to forge a future with her.
BUY LINKS
Amazon Kindle
US – UK  – CA – AU – BR – DE – ES – FR – IN – IT – JP – MX – NL –
Other E-readers
NOOK – INKTERA – ITUNES – KOBO – SCRIBD – SMASHWORDS

Paperback edition coming soon!

Social Media Links
BeeZee Books | Goodreads | Latest Book Trailer |
EXCERPT

AS WITH surviving her treatment among the soldiers, Rhyddes found anger to be an excellent ally for masking her fear and embarrassment. To be forced to strip and parade naked in front of this leering crowd—if the gods cared at all about their people’s plight, they would inflict a plague on all Romans and their whelps unto the third generation.
Fixing her gaze on a point at the top of the far wall while she dwelled upon happier days helped her weather the humiliation.
A pair of hands cupped her breasts, sending tingles scurrying through her body. She shifted her gaze to stare into the most alluring hazel eyes she’d ever seen, set into a tanned, handsome face crowned with close-cropped, curly black hair: the face of a god.
A Roman god, to judge by the scarlet-bordered bed linens flapping about his tall, muscular frame.
But, Roman or no, he was making her feel like a pampered goddess with his warm caresses. She closed her eyes and parted her lips in a soft sigh. When his touch became more firm, she regarded him again, puzzled by the change.
His face seemed lost in concentration. He was kneading her flesh as dispassionately as a woman evaluating the ripeness of peaches!
She worked up a mouthful of spittle, imagining how it would look adorning that arrogant face. Deciding it would buy her more trouble than she could afford, she swallowed and steeled herself to the Roman’s touch. His haughty grin rekindled her anger, dousing other emotions he’d awakened.
What surprised her, though she strove to hide it, was how hard those other emotions fought for dominance.

My bio and social media links, if you would like to include them, are:

AUTHOR BIO
Kim Headlee lives on a farm in southwestern Virginia with her family, cats, goats, and assorted wildlife. People and creatures come and go, but the cave and the 250-year-old house ruins—the latter having been occupied as recently as the mid-twentieth century—seem to be sticking around for a while yet.

Kim is a Seattle native (when she used to live in the Metro DC area, she loved telling people she was from "the other Washington") and a direct descendent of twentieth-century Russian nobility. Her grandmother was a childhood friend of the doomed Grand Duchess Anastasia, and the romantic yet tragic story of how Lydia escaped Communist Russia with the aid of her American husband will most certainly one day fuel one of Kim's novels. Another novel in the queue will involve her husband's ancestor, the seventh-century proto-Viking king of the Swedish colony in Russia.

For the time being, however, Kim has plenty of work to do in creating her projected 8-book Arthurian series, The Dragon's Dove Chronicles, and other novels under her new imprint, Pendragon Cove Press.

YouTube video interview: http://youtu.be/DV5iKrEIROk

FOLLOW KIM:



Thursday, January 15, 2015

Slivers of Glass by Janet Elizabeth Lynn and Will Zeilinger








Slivers of Glass
By
Janet Elizabeth Lynn
And
Will Zeilinger

Summary
Summer 1955: The body of a woman thought to be killed three years earlier is found behind a theater in Hollywood.  Movie stuntman Skylar Drake, a former LAPD detective, is dragged into the investigation. He can make no sense of the crime until he discovers a dirty underworld and unearths deep-seated… greed.  
The hunt takes Drake to places he’d never expect.  He’s anxious to close this case and get back to his business in L.A., but he’s constantly haunted by the memory of his wife and young daughter, killed in a mysterious house fire.
With more than enough dirty cops, politicians and crime bosses to go around, Drake can trust no one including Martin Card, the cop assigned to work with him. 
Buy link: website:
              www.willzeilingerauthor.com

Excerpt
There were a dozen other things I could’ve been doing besides standing in line at the drug store listening to Bill Haley’s “Rock Around the Clock” piped in overhead.  Though, it was a treat to watch the cashier move behind the counter in her form-fitting white smock. I shook my head and plopped a tube of Pepsodent and a couple of toothbrushes on the pharmacy counter.
She looked up and said, “That will be seventy-five cents, Mr. Drake.”
I dug in my pocket and dropped three quarters in her hand, “Thank you, Miss Abernathy.” She placed my items in a small white paper bag and folded over the top. “Here you are, and quit calling me that.  My name is Emily. Anyway, this should keep you smiling brightly. I only wish I could see yours sometime.”
In all the times I’ve walked to this drug store, I couldn’t remember a day she didn’t smile at me. Too bad there was a ‘y’ at the end of Emily’s name. Women with names like Sandy, Cathy or Abby were bad luck. Those ‘y’  women were always trouble and it would be dangerous to get mixed up with another one now.
“Thanks,” I tipped my hat, "When I have something to smile about, I might just show you.” I knew Emily pretty well since this place was only a couple of blocks from my apartment, an apartment I lived in because a fire took my home along with my beautiful wife Claire and Ellen my little girl.
As I turned to leave, I winked at the two little old ladies behind me.  They stepped back and stared as if I’d just sneezed in their faces. I turned and waved goodbye to Emily only to see her pointing behind me in horror. I followed her gaze and saw a dark green car hurtling toward us - right through the huge windows at the front of the store! The gigantic crash at my back sent shelves, boxes and cans hurtling in our direction. I turned around as glass, smoke and debris seemed to explode in a cloud around us. At that moment my training from the Marine Corps took over. I instinctively swept up the two ladies and Emily and pushed them to the back of the store. The other customers ran screaming out the huge opening where the storefront windows used to be. I shielded the women against the back wall with my body all the while knowing that my weight could suffocate them, but what else could I do? The ceiling could come down on us at any moment. I held them against the wall while listening to my heart pound.  Slowly the tinkle of glass subsided and I released them. Tiny slivers of glass and wood had embedded themselves in my sweater and trousers. “You’d better be careful,” One of the little old women chirped, “Your backside looks like a pin cushion.  Best not to sit down for a while.”



Bio:
JANET ELIZABETH LYNN was born in Queens, New York and raised in Long Island, until she was 12 years old. Her family escaped the freezing winters and hurricanes for the warmth and casual lifestyle of Southern California.
Janet has always wanted to write and made it a quest to write a novel. Ten years later, with much blood and sweat, her first murder mystery novel, South of the Pier, was published in 2011. She has since written seven more mysteries. Miss Lynn has traveled to the far reaches of the planet for work and for pleasure, collecting wonderful memories, new found friends and a large basket of shampoo and conditioner samples from hotels.
At one time Janet was an Entertainment Editor for a newspaper in Southern California.
Contact info:
LinkedIn: 
website: www.janetlynnauthor.com

WILL ZEILINGER  has been writing for over twelve years. During that time, he took novel writing classes and joined writer’s groups, but what has helped the most are published authors who mentor, encourage, critique  and listen to him while he continued to learn the craft.  At the time of this writing, Will has published three novels (Ebooks.) The Naked Groom,  Something’s Cooking at Dove Acres, and The Final Checkpoint (also in print). 
As a youth he lived overseas with his family. As an adult he traveled the world. Will lives in Southern California with his wife Janet Elizabeth Lynn, who is also an author. Will says that finding time to write while life happens is a challenge.

Contact info:
Twitter:  @Will_Zeilinger
Facebook:  www.facebook.com/wzeilinger

blog: http://www.booksbywilzeilinger.blogspot.com

Wednesday, January 14, 2015

Romantic Questions for Pamela S. Thibodeaux and A #RockingRomance Circles of Fate #MFRWauthor

1. What romantic event would you like to see this year?
An engagement (maybe even mine!)
2. Name your favorite romantic tip
Never stop letting your spouse, partner or significant other know how much you care….notes on the coffee pot, cards, flowers or gifts “just because”, seemingly insignificant things mean a whole lot.
3. What Rocking romance do you find intriguing (Miss Piggy and Kermit is mine)?
Goldie Hawn and Kurt Russell or any other long term Hollywood romance.
4. What is your Rocking Romance flower?
A bouquet of wildflowers
5. Plan one romantic evening what would you do?
I’ve experienced many romantic evenings, but one…. A weekend getaway in a luxury hotel with all the trimmings….couples massage, dinner and dancing in a semi-formal atmosphere, room service, Jacuzzi tub. I think that would be the ultimate romantic evening!





Blurb: Set at the tail end of the Vietnam War era, Circles of Fate takes the reader from Fort Benning, Georgia to Thibodaux, Louisiana. A romantic saga, this gripping novel covers nearly twenty years in the lives of Shaunna Chatman and Todd Jameson. Constantly thrown together and torn apart by fate, the two are repeatedly forced to choose between love and duty, right and wrong, standing on faith or succumbing to the world’s viewpoint on life, love, marriage and fidelity. With intriguing twists and turns, fate brings together a cast of characters whose lives will forever be entwined. Through it all is the hand of God as He works all things together for the good of those who love Him and are called according to His purpose.

Excerpt :
She should leave. Shaunna knew Joe waited for her, but was unable, unwilling, to end it, to end them, just yet. She held him firm in her embrace, committed the feel of his body to heart.
“I have to go,” she whispered, then clung, not yet able to turn him loose.
“I know,” he answered and tightened his arms around her. With a sigh of surrender, he stepped away, loosened his hold but rubbed her back and shoulders in a tender gesture.
“Don’t look back,” he whispered then dropped his hands to his side, clenched his fists.
She saw the struggle in his eyes, felt it in her heart, as each fought not to grab hold and cling. They gazed at each other, read the naked truth in each other’s eyes.
Neither wanted to be the first to walk away.
Shaunna touched his face, traced his features…his eyes, his jaw, his mouth. A shiver shook her when he held her hand and pressed his lips to her fingertips.
“I almost wish we had made love the other night.”
Almost?
The word echoed between them like a silent scream. The despair in his eyes slashed her heart another degree. He shook his head, swallowed hard.
“Know this. If we had, you would not leave here today.”
She stroked his cheek, her smile tender, bittersweet. “Take care of yourself. Please,” she whispered then placed her mouth on his.
Lips met on a sigh, breaths mingled on a sob. Each of them committed the kiss to heart, and fought not to cling to the other. With a final touch, a last trembling smile, Shaunna did one of the hardest things she’d ever done in her life.
She left.


Purchase Links:
Create Space: http://bit.ly/1qRN3cb



(hope that engagement comes through)
Thanks for sharing Pam,

Tina