by Sarah | Feb 27, 2014 | Character Interview, Guest Authors, Guest Post, Writing
Thank you Sarah for having me here!
There are few things more enjoyable than sitting down with friends. I got to do just that recently with the stars of my erotic sports romance, Pink Pucks & Power Plays, the first book in the To Love a Wildcat series. Given that Alain has a rather severe dislike of the press and/or interviews, I wasn`t sure he would agree, but my gal Viv finagled the handsome young D-man into meeting me.
We arranged for the interview to take place at The Black Boar Bar & Grill, a popular eatery and sports bar a few blocks from The Houseman Arena where the Philadelphia Wildcats play. Alain is one of several `Cats who own a share of the trendy meeting place. I picked the table by the small stage in the large dining area. Rumor has it Philly sports stars perform here on occasion, but I`ve yet to see it. Maybe someday I`ll catch a performance by a Wildcat or two.
The hot spot was rather quiet, as it was after the lunch crush. There were televisions filling every available inch of wall space that wasn`t covered with sports memorabilia. As a friendly young waiter dressed as a referee delivered my decaf, I saw the couple arriving.
“Alain!” the few lingering patrons shouted as if we were at Cheers. Lessard smiled at his fans, slapping backs as well as shaking hands as he followed Viviana to the table. I smiled at the woman. She was, as she always is, vibrant. Her clothes were sexy, colorful and playful, accenting her legs and her breasts, for she knows how much her lover admires them. Viv and I bussed cheeks. We`re the same height and possess the same curvy form so seem to feel an affinity for each other. Alain enveloped me in a brotherly hug. My eyes grew wide. I peeked at Viviana. She smiled. Alain released me to pull the chair out for his lady love.
“Thank you for doing this, Alain,” I said as he hurried to push my chair in for me.
“It is my pleasure,” the Quebecer said as he dropped his well made frame into his seat. I could easily see what Viv saw in Alain. Six foot two, one hundred and ninety pounds, black curly hair, hazel eyes, athletic build, and a mouth that begs to be kissed. I`d be drawn like a moth to a flame as well! “This is not like a regular interview.”
“See, not all interviews are bad,” the sassy brunette said as she ran her eyes over the menu. Alain rolled those pretty hazel eyes playfully. His hand rested on the back of Viviana`s chair possessively. “Let`s get a fish dinner then split it.” Viviana looked at me with eyes the color of white grapes. Her eyes always amaze me. I nodded at the suggestion. After the order was placed and Viv and Alain`s drinks were brought out, we started chatting.
“So, how does it feel to be the stars of your own book?” I asked the couple.
“I`m tickled to be the first of the Wildcats women`s story that you told,” Viviana said then sipped at her raspberry flavored water.
“It is very nice,” Alain answered tactfully.
“He`s not always so tight-fisted with his words,” Viviana pointed out as our appetizers arrived.
“Oh, I`m well aware of how he can talk once he`s comfortable,” I replied with a wink for the hockey star. His mouth curled into a shy smile. “Although you do seem to have the lion`s share of the dialog in the book, Viv.”
“Yes, see, chaton, I don`t talk much because you are doing all the talking for us both,” Alain joked. “I cannot fit the words in edge like.”
“Oh pooh on both of you.” Viviana dipped a mozzarella stick into some red sauce then offered the first bite to Alain, her left hand cupped under the dripping stick. “It`s hot,” she warned. Probably so he didn`t burn those lips of his she is so keen on kissing.
“Speaking of sex,” I said as I dipped my own stick. Both my characters eyes widened with surprise. “Were you two pleased with the amount of it in your book?”
“Is there such a thing as too much sex?” Viviana asked with a impish gleam in her eye.
“It was very nice,” Alain responded. I suspected that was his stock reply whenever he felt the matter was too personal to discuss. It was better than being told it was none of my business.
“The sex was wonderful,” Viv interjected as she fed Alain the rest of the cheese stick. “I do love a juicy read, and this story certainly is that!”
“But there was more than the sex, no?” Alain said after dabbing sauce off his mouth with his napkin.”The sex, it was great, but the lesson my Viviana learned, that was big importance too, was it not?”
I looked pointedly at the woman trying to decide which mozzarella stick to chose for herself. “Was it, Viviana?” I asked directly. Her eyes flicked to me then returned to the basket holding our appetizers. The patrons hooted at an old replay of a Stanley Cup game on one of the TV sets.
“Can we talk about the sex instead?” Viv inquired.
“No, we are talking about all the book, not just the steamy sex scenes,” Alain hurried to say. I leaned back into my seat, nibbling the scalding hot stick carefully, my napkin held under my chin. “So, did you learn a lesson, Viviana?”
“Yes, I learned a lesson! Does that make you both happy?! For goodness sake, one would think I was Dr. Doom or something!” she huffed as she made a grab for a stick in the bright red plastic basket. Alain grabbed her hand, raised it to his lips and then laid it on the table beside Viviana`s plate. Then he chose a stick to feed her. I shifted around in my chair, suddenly quite uncomfortable. It felt as if I were watching the lovers in their bedroom. I smiled at a man eating his lunch behind us.
“What did you learn?” I asked when the sensual stick feeding was over with. “And for the record, we all adore you Viviana,” I added, for it was the truth. Sure, Viv could be rather brusque at times, but her heart was most generally in the right place.
“I learned that we should talk about one of the other ladies in the series. Let`s chat about the rest of the books! I`m sure your readers would like to know a bit about those instead of hearing more about the poor choices silly old me has made.”
I let her have that victory. She was far too clever to wrangle into such a private confession. She had been a reporter after all. Viviana Land had lots of pride, and chutzpah. I didn`t wish to push either her or Alain too far.
“Alright, let me see. The next book will be A Most Unlikely Countess.”
“Look at that dreamy look,” Alain teased. I felt the heat creeping into my face. “Ah poor V. L., she does so love goalies.”
“Okay, yes, I do have a thing for goalies. Everyone knows that.” I hurried to grab my coffee to hide behind. Viviana patted my arm while laughing at my discomfort.
“It`s fine, ” Viv assured me. “A woman would have to be dead and buried not to be swept off her feet by Veikko Aho. He is perhaps one of the most classically handsome men I have ever laid eyes on.”
“Ahem!” We both looked at Alain with his arms now folded over a tee that read ‘Old Time Hockey’ and featured the Hanson Brothers from the movie, Slapshot.
“Aside from you of course, darling.” Viviana patted his muscular bicep.
I hurried to carry on lest more male ego was trampled. “After A Most Unlikely Countess will be O Captain! My Captain!, Reality Check, and Language of Love. I`m also toying with a few ideas for other Wildcat books, but we`ll see how things hatch with the planned five before I count chickens.”
“I for one hope they do well. If women knew just how sexy hockey players are, they`d flock to grab those books.” Viviana leaned back to give the server room to place her half a fish dinner. My mouth watered when my plate of flaky flounder, thick steak fries, and a side of coleslaw was set in front of me. Alain was eating rare steak with a fat baked potato that was topped with sour cream and chives. I guess the players get tired of chicken.
“I can`t argue that point,” I said then waggled an eyebrow. Alain smiled self-consciously.
“He does humble well,” Viviana whispered as she passed the ketchup bottle to me. The meal progressed pleasantly. We chatted about small things. Alain seemed to relax completely by the time dessert was brought out. We each had a small dish of ice cream. Mine was vanilla, Alain`s fudge ripple, and Viviana`s black raspberry.
“So, can I ask a question?” Alain said as we enjoyed our frozen treats. I nodded. “How do the Wildcats do in our quest for Lord Stanley`s cup?”
“Oh no you don`t!” I shook my spoon at the charmer, “You`re not wheedling that information out of me. No way and no how!”
“I could send a certain goalie over to persuade that information out of you,” he teased, his hazel eyes sparkling with mischief. I stared at him over the table. Viviana slapped his arm.
“Would you stop tormenting the poor woman so! If you wish to know if the `Cats win it all, or if any of our friends find love, buy the books.”
“But Viviana, how do I find time to read when I am working to keep you happy?” Alain asked with utmost sincerity.
“Oh, he`s good,” I muttered under my breath.
“Yes he is,” Viviana purred, leaning over to steal a kiss from her Wildcat. It didn`t take the couple long to finish their ice cream, snap up the check, and wave goodbye. I sat back with a contented smile. One Wildcat happy ever after, four more to go!
*~*~*
| [amazon_link id=”B00I33V7G2″ target=”_blank” container=”” container_class=”” ]Amazon[/amazon_link] | SCP | BN | ARe |
Blurb:
Viviana Land just can`t seem to say no to her younger sister. Somehow, the curvaceous society page reporter gets lassoed into serving as her niece`s Busy Bee scout leader. One overheated engine later, Viviana and her girls find themselves in the Green Hills Ice Rink. Enter Alain Lessard, the charmingly handsome defenseman for the Philadelphia Wildcats, who is donating his summer to coaching the youth league.
When our intrepid reporter is given the opportunity to write the break-out story of her career, Viviana leaps at the chance. Thinking it would be easy to flirt and tease some juicy tidbits out of Alain, Viviana soon finds herself falling for the sensual, younger, kind-hearted man. Will she put aside her virtual pen for a chance to stay at her new paramour`s side? Or will Viviana finally get away from those mundane bakery opening articles by using the man she may possibly be in love with?
*~*
V.L. Locey loves worn jeans, belly laughs, anything romantic, Greek mythology, New York Rangers hockey, comic books and coffee. (Not necessarily in that order.) She shares her life with her husband, her daughter, one dog, two cats, a steer named after a famous N.H.L. goalie, and a flock of assorted domestic fowl.
V.L. is a self-published and conventionally published author. She is a proud Torquere Press and Secret Cravings Publishing author. When not writing romantic tales, she can be found enjoying her day with her menagerie in the rolling hills of Pennsylvania with a cup of fresh java in hand, writing, or cheering on her beloved New York Rangers. She can also be found online on Facebook, Twitter, and GoodReads.
I love to meet new friends and fans! You can find me at-
Facebook- https://www.facebook.com/pages/VL-Locey/124405447678452
Twitter- https://twitter.com/vllocey
Goodreads- http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5807700.V_L_Locey
My blog- http://thoughtsfromayodelinggoatherder.blogspot.com/
by Sarah | Feb 26, 2014 | Character Interview, Guest Authors, Thursday Tell All, Writing
What is your story?
Not terribly different or exciting really – I’m the product of a middle-class upbringing in Richmond, Virginia, have a college degree, and now I work for the Washington, D.C. Commerce and Market Center as assistant to the director. Sounds ordinary and even rather boring, right? Except it’s not.
Trade shows are a strange hybrid of circus, renaissance fair, and the local shopping mall, with a lot of ego and seriously high financial stakes thrown into the blender. With that much intensity in play, there are plenty of arguments to mediate, ruffled feathers to soothe, egos to placate, and problems to solve.
That’s my job: troubleshooting during the shows and exhibitions here at the Market Center and, believe me, it’s always something while they’re going on! Malfunctioning popcorn machines. Missing shipments of merchandise. Displays of angel wings gone horribly wrong. A game machine that blows out the electricity to five aisles of exhibitors. And that was just one show. I’ve also dealt with feuding cake bakers at a bridal show, trying to get gigantic farm machinery through doors that just barely accommodate them, electronic interference at a tech show, crowd control when a celebrity shows up, and security for high level political conferences. Nope, it’s never dull around here.
Do you think the author portrayed you accurately?
She lets me tell my stories in my own words, so, yes, pretty accurate.
Do you have any special strengths?
I’m a good listener and I seem to make people comfortable talking to me. My boss tells me I have a remarkable level of patience and tolerance with difficult people, to the point of possible masochism. I’m pretty good at figuring out solutions to problems, too.
Do you have any special weaknesses?
Of course. I can be a pushover for the right people. Some of the people around me think I work too hard at helping others and solving their problems, although I’m not sure I see why that’s an issue.
What makes you happy?
Really great pens! Companies are always giving away pens as come-ons, and they’re all over trade show exhibit halls. Of course most of them are cheap, boring sticks. But some of them go for really unique and different ones. I collect those.
And… I don’t get to do it very much anymore, but I used to work summers as a guide at resort in the mountains. I led kayak trips along rivers and into odd corners of lakes. It was great. When things get hard at work, I dream about those kayak trips and it helps relax me. Of course, that was only in summer and they didn’t pay squat. But still.. When I have the free time I like to travel outside the city and take long walks through the countryside.
Otherwise, fixing problems makes me happy. Dates with Scott and meetings with friends make me happy.
What are you afraid of?
Shhh…Don’t tell anyone because I’d get teased unmercifully if anyone knew. Spiders. Spiders. Scare. The. Crap. Out. Of. Me.
Who is your true love?
Not sure yet. It may be Scott Brandon, the new security guy we hired a few months back. We’ve been dating for a couple of months now and well… Wowza. But I don’t know. Scott’s got secrets. He was once a D.C. cop and he doesn’t like talking about why he isn’t anymore. And he’s a great guy, kind, caring, helpful, and all, but he can sometimes go really cold and scary. I think it’s the part of him that’s still a police officer coming out at times.
Name five items in your purse, briefcase, or pockets.
Okay, let me see what’s in my purse… Wallet, keys, phone, tissues, breath mints – gee. that’s all exciting. Metro card and receipt from my last stop at the grocery store. But wait, there’s more! I have a lipstick and compact, comb, little spray bottle of perfume, notepad and… holy smoke – there are four, five, six pens in here. A couple are really nice ones, too. A sleek chrome Cross pen, and one that has gel stuff in the top and lights up when you press on it to write with. There’s more down there, but I’m not digging any deeper right now.
How do you envision your future?
Maybe I’ll get married and have a couple of kids. I hope so. I hope I’ll be working here at the Center as the director’s assistant for the next few years. Then maybe I can move up into Show Management and maybe even beome the Center’s director some day.
What is your most prized mundane possession? Why do you value it so much?
I have a diamond necklace and earring set that my grandmother left to me in her will. I only wear them on special occasions, but when I do, I feel like she’s there with me. Granny was really important to me when I was growing up. She kept urging me to try things and whenever I met a challenge, she was all, “Go for it!”
What is something you had to learn that you hated?
Math! Calculus my senior year in high school almost killed me.
Is an ounce of prevention really worth a pound of cure? Which is more valuable? Why do you feel this way?
Prevention is better. I’ve seen the results when prevention didn’t work and believe me, it’s not pretty.
How private of a person are you? Why?
Oh, I’m not really private at all. Can’t afford to be in my job since I spend most of my days talking to people, a lot of them strangers.
*~*~*~*
| [amazon_link id=”B00CGKYNT6″ target=”_blank” container=”” container_class=”” ]Amazon[/amazon_link] | BN |
A Gift for Murder
Blurb: For fifty-one weeks of the year, Heather McNeil loves her job as assistant to the director of the Washington, D.C. Commerce & Market Show Center. But the Gifts and Home Decorations trade show, the biggest show of the year at the center, is a week-long nightmare. This year’s version is being worse than usual. Misplaced shipments, feuding exhibitors, and malfunctioning popcorn machines are all in a day’s work. Finding the body of a murdered executive dumped in a trash bin during the show isn’t. The discovery tips throws Heather’s life—personal and professional—into havoc.
The police suspect the victim’s wife killed him, but Heather doesn’t believe it. She’s gottenglimmers of an entirely different scenario and possible motive. Questioning exhibitors about the crime doesn’t make her popular with them or with her employers, but if she doesn’t identify the murderer before the show ends, the culprit will remain free to kill again.
Her only help comes from an exhibitor with ulterior motives and the Market Center’s attractive new security officer, Scott Brandon. Despite opposition from some of the exhibitors, her employers, and the police, Heather seeks to expose the killer before the show ends. To solve the mystery, she will havehas to risk what’s most important to her and be prepared to fight for answers, her job, and possibly her life.
*~*
Excerpt:
Chapter One
If I’d known how bad Wednesday would get, I would’ve—what? Stayed in bed? Not likely. The show must go on and all that. But I would’ve at least asked for another shot of espresso during my morning stop at Starbucks. Maybe two.
My work day went from peaceful beginning to chaos within half an hour. This wasn’t just another day at the office. The start of the annual Washington, D.C. Gifts and Decorations Show, our biggest show of the year at the Commerce & Market Show Center, was always the worst day of the year for the staff who organized it.
By nine-thirty, blizzards of paper covered my desk, my cell phone hadn’t quit buzzing, and the land-line phone rang continuously. The computer constantly chimed the arrival of new email messages. A strange man stopped at the office door and stood there watching me.
The triple-shot latte was already struggling to keep my sanity in place.
I recognized the number on the cell phone display and reached for it first.
“Heather?” Janelle, the Show Center’s director and my boss, sounded disturbed. Unflappable Janelle sounding disturbed was worse than most people shouting or having hysterics.
“Problem?” I asked, trying not to stare at the stranger, who lingered near the doorway. A quick glance said he was worth a look.
Until Janelle said, “Find Mark and tell him aisles three to five don’t have power. He’s not answering his pager. Then call Truffant Shipping and ask them to fax copies of the manifests for their deliveries to Brent-Cooper. A couple of their boxes are missing. Once you’ve done that, can you get down here? Lots of ruffled feathers over the power. Oh, and Grantwood & Bethel is missing one of their key people. They think he may be lost somewhere in the city. And Sue Savotsky of Trimstates doesn’t like her location—the carpet’s not clean, and the people across the way are playing loud music.”
“Her again?”
“ ’Fraid so. But she likes you, so if you wouldn’t mind—What’s that?” The last two words were directed at someone else. “Gotta go. Need you ASAP.” Janelle ended the call.
I reached for the latte getting cold on a corner of my desk.
Someone else yelled, “Heather!”
Jo startled me so badly I almost splashed coffee on my white silk blouse. That would make a really good impression on the clients down on the showroom floor. Or the hunk in the doorway.
I turned toward her office. “What?”
“I can’t find the latest press accreditations list.”
“I put a copy in your inbox this morning. Did you look there?”
“Yes. It’s not . . . oh, wait, here it is.”
How did our marketing director manage to get her shoes on the right feet in the morning? I rolled my eyes, momentarily forgetting I wasn’t alone.
A warm, masculine chuckle reminded me. “You must be the person who runs the place.” The voice was deep and rich, sexy as a Milky Way bar—the kind with dark chocolate.
I turned to face the stranger, who’d taken a couple of steps toward my desk. Tall, lean, around thirty, blond hair cut short, light eyes of indeterminate color.
“I’m Heather McNeil, the director’s assistant,” I answered. “I do my part. May I help you?”
The right side of his mouth curled into the beginnings of a smile. For a moment there was a delightfully predatory gleam in his eye, but then the light went out, as if he’d shut it off. Damn!
“Scott Brandon. I had an appointment to apply for the security officer’s position you’re advertising,” he said.
“You need to see Craig Vincelli, down the hall. He’s the security chief.”
“He wasn’t in his office. Someone directed me up here. There wasn’t anyone at the receptionist’s desk, either.”
Jo came out of her office, shuffling an armload of papers. “Gotta take these down to the press room. Back shortly.” She paused to admire the newcomer, then raced down the hall when she heard the elevator bell ping.
“God knows where Tina is,” I said, as much to myself as to the man standing there. “Craig’s probably out running down the missing boxes. Or the missing executive. Just a minute.” I picked up the phone and dialed Craig’s cell number.
He answered on the third ring, breathless and in a hurry. “Yeah?”
When I explained, he said, “Crap, I forgot. I’ll be there in ten minutes. “Give Brandon the paperwork.”
I said I would and hung up.
“You’ve mislaid boxes and an executive?” Scott Brandon asked. “The boxes I can understand, but aren’t executives kind of hard to lose?”
“Not in D.C. They manage to lose themselves all the time. In traffic, in museums, in the Metro, in the halls of power . . .”
He frowned. “You’re too young to be so cynical.”
“There’s an age limit? No one told me.”
“Real cynicism takes bitter experience.”
“And you’re so ancient?”
Something flashed in his eyes, something dark and dangerous. “I’ve walked the walk and—”
“Turned the talk into a lecture. Come with me.” I stopped at Tina’s desk to get the application forms and led him to the small conference room. “Sit in here and fill these out. Bring them back to me when you’re done.”
*~*
Author Bio:
Karen McCullough is a web designer by profession, and the author of a dozen published novels and novellas in the mystery, romantic suspense, and fantasy genres as well. She has won numerous awards, including an Eppie Award for fantasy, and has also been a four-time Eppie finalist, and a finalist in the Prism, Dream Realm, Rising Star, Lories, Scarlett Letter, and Vixen Awards contests. Her short fiction has appeared in several anthologies and numerous small press publications in the mystery, fantasy, science fiction, and romance genres. She has three children, four grandchildren and lives in Greensboro, NC, with her husband of many years. Her most recent release is the ebook version of A Gift for Murder, originally published in hardcover by Five Star/Cengage and mass market paperback by Harlequin Worldwide Mysteries.
Website: http://www.kmccullough.com
Blog: http://www.kmccullough/kblog
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/KarenMcCulloughAuthor
Twitter: https://twitter.com/kgmccullough
by Sarah | Feb 21, 2014 | Character Interview, Guest Authors, Writing
My name is Lynda Kaye Frazier and I write Suspense Romances.I am interviewing Mercedes Kingsley. She is an FBI intern waiting on a response from her application to the Academy. She is struggling with her need to be an agent and her attraction to Jason Michaels, while hiding a secret that will destroy everything she has worked so hard to build.
*~*
Lynda: “Welcome Ms. Kingsley. I have asked you here to go over a few items in your application for the Academy. I’ve reviewed your paperwork and would like you to tell me about the incidents that led to your father’s retirement 10 years ago.”
Mercy; Mercy swallowed hard and rubbed her sweaty palms together. “ It was a botched kidnapping which had a devastating ending to my father’s career. “ They just don’t need to know what else ended that night.
Lynda; “Could I have details please, I need it for the application. You failed to give information that we will need for the review board.”
Mercy: “My father was an Agent but also owned a software firm. There were threats made to the company and I was kidnapped because of them. My Father, and his partner Ron Daily, found out where I was being held. My Dad did not follow protocol and came in without back-up. His actions saved me that night but his career died, and so did my dream to be an agent. I could not apply for the Academy as long as my dad struggled to get his life back. But, as you have read, it’s been 10 years and I realized that being an agent was the only thing I wanted to do. So I pursued the internship and applied to the Academy.” Mercy’s heart pounded in her ears as she fought to stay in control.
Lynda: “Are your parents fine with your decision? You know your father will be interviewed, and he is highly respected. His opinion will be taken into account.”
Mercy: “I know how this will affect my parents but they’ll back my decision. I didn’t want to tell them until I had my acceptance letter.” I didn’t want to tell them until I was in the Academy. Ron said they weren’t going to talk to my dad. What changed?
Lynda: “ I see that you had counseling after the kidnapping and treatment for anxiety, and you suffer from claustrophobia. Those are issues that need to be resolved before the board review. It will affect your ability to be an agent.”
Mercy: How did they find out? Ron said no one would know and I would have time to figure out a way around it. What else can go wrong? “My counseling was complete and I was released. I attached my past medical records in my application. My issue with claustrophobia is in the past. That should also be stated in my medical papers.”
Lynda: “It is. I just wanted to hear you say it, and make me believe it. During the Academy you will be working closely with Ron Daily and his team. Will that be a problem for you? I see you have a close relationship with them and a personal one with Jason Michaels. Have you read the rules Mercy? We have guidelines and if this is an issue I want to know now.”
Mercy; Mercy’s chest squeezed and her hands shook. She had to stop the panic attack before it starts. It will kill her application quicker than his kiss. The memory of that kiss still warmed her lips but she knew the rules and the pain she saw in his eyes as she walked away will always haunt her. “It will not be an issue. Agent Daily and his team have helped me during my internship, and that’s all. We have a close business relationship only. Mr. Michaels and I do not have any kind of relationship, nor do we plan on having one. We both are aware of the rules and what is at stake if any are broken.”
Lynda: “Ok as long as you are aware that they will also be interviewed”
Mercy: Mercy took a deep breath as the phone rang.
Lynda: “I need to take this. I believe I have everything I need. I will contact you when the board reviews your application. Make sure you discuss this with your family. We will be contacting them soon”
Mercy quickly left the room as her heart pounded in her ears. She had to find her parents and talk to them, but she had to see Jason first, if he’ll see her. Mercy swallowed past the fear in her throat. She had told so many lies to hide the truth, and hid a few secrets she’s not ready for anyone to know, and it’s all closing in on her, fast.
*~*
| [amazon_link id=”B00BFYANMK” target=”_blank” container=”” container_class=”” ]Amazon [/amazon_link]| BN | Smashwords | KOBO | ARe | Black Opal Books |
BLURB:
She has no memory of their love…
Kidnapped by terrorists and sent into a drug-induced coma, FBI intern Mercedes Kingsley awakes with no memory of her ordeal—or the intimate interlude that left her pregnant. Convinced her child was fathered by her ex-fiancé, she walks away from the only man she has ever loved, determined to make things work with her ex, a man the FBI suspects is implicated in her abduction.
He knows the truth, but no one will listen…
FBI undercover agent Jason Michaels remembers what Mercy can’t and those memories are breaking his heart. Forced to keep his distance from his lover and their unborn child, Jason risks his life to protect Mercy from a cell of international terrorists who have vowed to get the secrets locked in her memory, no matter the cost. Can Jason convince Mercy to trust him until she remembers their past, or will he lose her to a man who will trap her in a nightmare world of darkness from which there is no escape?
*~*
Excerpt:
An explosion ricocheted behind Jason Michael’s eyes as the pressure mounted in his head. The rush of panic consumed him. He struggled to move, tried to swallow, but nothing. His throat burned as the flames engulfed his lungs. He needed to breathe but couldn’t. Shit. He strained to make out the muffled voice, but the pounding in his ears erased all hope. His head started to spin and he succumbed to the realization, this was it, the end. He won. The flames dampened and his heartbeat slowed as the drums subsided, then the voice became clear.
“Give it to him now you son of a bitch. What were you thinking? We still need him.”
In a split second, Jason sucked in a breath, causing stabbing pains to shoot through his chest. Every muscle fiber burned as the cold blast of air shot through his lungs releasing the oxygen his body craved. He arched his back, raising his chest up to pull in more air when his head snapped to the side and the crack from his neck echoed in his ears. The pain ripped through his jaw, racing across his cheekbone. Before he could gather his senses, intense burning set his face on fire. What the hell?
The slap against his cheek stung, and his eyes snapped open. He wrenched upright, hitting his head on the roof of the SUV. His gaze darted back and forth looking for something familiar until he locked onto the ice-cold stare of the devil himself, Shaun Flanagan.
Damn, that was close. Jason could not blow his cover, even if it meant he would die as David Logan and not Jason Michaels.
“You’re finally awake, my boy. We almost lost you,” Shaun cold, emotionless laugh caused Jason’s blood to boil. “You stopped breathing, I think. It’s hard to tell with this new stuff. I hope you’re not too injured. We’ve got work to do.”
Jason’s vision blurred, but his other senses were sharp. Shaun had known exactly what the drug would do and the burn in Jason’s throat was a harsh reminder. Shaun’s sarcastic tone spoke volumes to him. He was evil and did not play by anyone’s rules but his own. Jason had spent the last two months undercover, playing their games and doing their dirty work to buddy up tight to this family. He’d earned his spot with Thomas Flanagan, but his son Shaun had issues trusting anyone, even his own father.
Jason’s anger burned inside of him, but he couldn’t afford to make mistakes, not now. He was too close. It’s time to step it up, but first the drugs had to stop. He rubbed his aching jaw with one hand, clenching his other into a fist to hide his visible shaking. He had to get control of this game before he lost everything.
*~*
BIO:
I’m an avid reader of romantic suspense and started writing after a vivid dream. I know, sounds cliché, but that’s how it started. I work full time at a Cardiology clinic, then at night you will find me in front of my computer. I grew up in Pennsylvania, but now live in Arkansas, surrounded by the Ozark mountains where I get to enjoy the four seasons without a long, cold winter. Other than spending time with my wonderful family, my favorite things to do are writing, reading and listening to music, but my most favorite is going to the beach. Surf, sand and a good book, my stress relief. ted his spot with Thomas Flanagan, but his
Lynda Kaye Frazier
http://lyndafrazier.blogspot.com
www.lyndakayefrazier.com
Facebook- http://www.facebook.com/pages/Lynda-Kaye-Frazier/189048967838229
Twitter- lynda_kaye
Amazon Author page:http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B009L7TK04
Writing is my passion, Reading is my Love.
He searches for information to tie the two together when he finds out they have kidnapped a fellow agent
by Sarah | Jan 30, 2014 | Character Interview, Guest Authors, Thursday Tell All, Writing
Good morning! I’m here speaking with Lily Frontiere, the very clever and spunky heroine from Lauren Linwood’s A Game of Chance. Let’s get to know a little about you, Lily. What are your hobbies?
When I was in school, I was mad about acting. I took part in every production, and many times I won the lead. I would have loved to go on the stage, but Maman was dead set against that. She believes being an actress is not a suitable occupation for her daughter.
Your mother is Lilian Frontiere, the owner and house madam of Lucky Lil’s, the most famous whorehouse in San Francisco. And yet she wouldn’t let you become an actress?
Oh, Maman is a strict parent. Although her occupation is unusual, she’s merely the owner of Lucky Lil’s. She’s very kind to the girls she hires, and she is a terrific listener. Many of San Francisco’s most influential men come to the house to speak with her and gain her advice. She hired an English governess for me, and then she sent me back east to boarding school. I really don’t know much about what goes on in the house. And I couldn’t disappoint her and go against her wishes by becoming an actress.
I am interested in politics, though. I love to attend suffragette meetings at Dashaway Hall. I may have inherited my interest in politics from my father. He was killed in a political revolution in Europe just after my birth. Maman left all that behind and came to America to start a new life.
Do you have any regrets?
I do wish I could have met Papa. I don’t know much about him. Maman tears up when she speaks of him.
What is your most closely guarded secret?
(Lily looks over her shoulder and leans in). If you must know, Maman is quite ill. I’m . . .
Go ahead, Lily. I won’t tell a soul.
Well, I resemble Maman a great deal. We’re the same height, and our shape is similar. She says I look exactly as she did at this age. So . . . please don’t breathe a word of this . . . but I have become Madam Lil. I cover my hair with a dark wig. I apply cosmetics (which Maman never allowed)—eyeliner and rouge and whatnot. And every night for the past month, I’ve transformed myself into Madam Lil. Our gestures are the same. Our voices are similar. Truly, it’s the acting job of a lifetime! No one has caught on. I’ve fooled everyone.
Do you have any regrets, becoming your mother and leading a life where no one knows who you truly are?
(Lily frowns.) Our servant Ben is the only one who knows of my deception. He has been with us for ages. It helps that he is aware of the situation. But regrets? Of course I have them. Although I have a first-class education and Maman has spoiled me with a wardrobe any woman would envy, I’ll never be accepted by San Francisco society. I long for a husband and children . . . but what man would get to know a person such as I am, much less fall in love with me and buck society by marrying me? When the time comes and Maman passes, I’ll probably have to leave this city. I’ve thought about becoming a governess.
Was there a major turning point in your life?
Yes! Last night a gambler came into Lucky Lil’s and presented me with the deed, which Maman had carelessly given to a corrupt banker for a loan. The man said he won it in a card game, and he’s wanting to take charge and make all kinds of changes to our establishment. I have a feeling there’ll be an eventual showdown between us.
What one word best describes you, Lily, especially with this potential showdown on the horizon?
Determined. Some might call me stubborn, but I am a very focused, very determined person.
Do your friends see you this way?
(Lily sighs.) I really don’t have any friends, other than Max and his butler Harold. Max is an old friend of Maman’s, and I go to have tea with him every week. Harold often joins us. He’s more than a butler. More like Max’s friend and financial adviser, in truth. As I mentioned, I really don’t have a place in polite society. I do miss having friends, as I did in school.
What, if anything, haunts you?
(Lily blushes.) Remember the gambler I mentioned? There’s something about him. He has the most electric blue eyes and a smile full of sunshine. I can’t seem to get his image out of my mind.
One last question, Lily. What would you wish for if you found a genie?
I would wish for Madan to regain her health. No one is more important to me, and I would do anything to see her well again.
Thank you for chatting today, Lily. I’ll be sure to keep your secrets.
*~*~*~*
| [amazon_link id=”B00HQVHR98″ target=”_blank” container=”” container_class=”” ]Amazon[/amazon_link] |
Blurb:
Gambler Jed Stone journeys to California to track down Simon Morgan, the man responsible for his best friend’s death. Arrested for robbery and murder upon arrival, Jed is shocked to see his face on a wanted poster. He escapes before his hanging, unaware that the man guilty of those crimes is the twin brother he never knew existed. In a case of mistaken identity, Jed acquires the most famous whorehouse in San Francisco in a rigged card game his twin is meant to win.
Lily Frontiere takes over running Lucky Lil’s from her dying mother, the house madam who shielded her by sending her away to boarding school. Lily’s intelligence and astonishing resemblance to her mother help in her charade, but she’s entered a world she knows little about. She clashes with the handsome stranger who turns up with the deed to Lucky Lil’s in hand, yet she is attracted to the charming risk taker.
Jed asks Madam Lil to stay on as he learns the business and is fooled by Lily’s performance until he stumbles upon the real Madam Lil and learns the truth behind Lily’s deception. His admiration for Lily blossoms into love.
But Simon Morgan seeks both Lily’s hand and ownership of Lucky Lil’s—and he will go to any means to possess both. Will Jed foil his nemesis while bringing his outlaw brother to justice and win Lily’s love?
*~*
Excerpt:
Gordon took out his money clip. He placed a few bills on the bed, soaked in her sweat and water and blood.
“That’s enough to satisfy the midwife. Sorry I don’t have enough for your funeral, love.”
Cara Lee bit back the scream and held it in her throat. The contraction ended. She refused to give him another reason to belittle her.
The midwife came to the bed and lifted the covers. “The head! My God, the baby’s coming out. Push, missus, push. Push for your life!”
Cara Lee gritted her teeth and bore down hard. A great relief washed over her. She closed her eyes, unwilling to see the man who had meant everything to her and who now betrayed her in her greatest hour of need.
“There, little one, there you go.”
She heard a slap and a hearty cry. She opened her eyes and saw her baby. Love burst from her.
“It’s a boy, missus. Hale and hearty. Even got a nice head of hair on him.”
“He’s mine,” she spit out, glaring at Gordon Fisher. “You can’t take him.”
“Oh, I can and I will, dear girl. This child is the meal ticket to my trust fund.”
He took the baby, now clean and wrapped in his mother’s ivory shawl, and spoke in low tones to the midwife before turning back to her. “This child will prove I’m respectable. I thank you for all you did, my dear.”
Gordon retreated from the room. She let out an anguished cry.
“Well, I never . . .” The midwife shook her head. “Let’s make you comfortable, dearie.”
Cara Lee moaned as the woman fussed over her, having trouble breathing again. A great weight pressed upon her.
“The worst is over, missus. Let me deal with the afterbirth. Maybe I can staunch the bleeding.”
As the midwife lifted the sheet again, she gasped. “Oh, no. Oh, my lord.”
Cara Lee broke out in a cold sweat. The pain was back again, this time even worse. Her body, her spirit, her faith in her husband. All had been broken. How much more could she bear?
The woman clucked loudly. “Another one’s coming, child. You’ll have to be strong a little bit longer.”
She sat up again. The burning urge to push had returned, stronger than the first time. She bit her lip hard and willed the baby to exit the birth canal. The burden eased from her, and the midwife cut the cord as before.
“It’s another boy. Spittin’ image of the other tyke.”
The baby gurgled happily.
“You mustn’t call him back. Don’t ever let . . .” Her voice trailed off.
A wet cloth glided across her forehead. What I wouldn’t give for a sip of cool water.
A few minutes later the midwife pulled the stained bed sheet over the woman’s head. She stared blankly at the wide-eyed baby in her arms.
“Lord Almighty. I never even knew your mama’s name.”
*~*
Author bio:
Lauren Linwood became a teacher who wrote on the side to maintain her sanity in a sea of teenage hormones. Her romances use history as a backdrop to place her characters in extraordinary circumstances, where their intense desire and yearning for one another grow into the deep, tender, treasured gift of love.
Lauren, a native Texan, lives in a Dallas suburb with her family. An avid reader, moviegoer, and sports fan, she manages stress by alternating yoga with five mile walks. She is thinking about starting a support group for Pinterest and House Hunters addicts.
Keep in touch with Lauren:
Website Facebook Twitter Blog Amazon Author Page Goodreads Author Page
Amazon Buy Links:
[amazon_link id=”B00CSC14SA” target=”_blank” container=”” container_class=”” ]Music For My Soul[/amazon_link]
[amazon_link id=”B00FQ0QGZM” target=”_blank” container=”” container_class=”” ]Outlaw Muse[/amazon_link]
[amazon_link id=”B00HQVHR98″ target=”_blank” container=”” container_class=”” ]A Game of Chance[/amazon_link]
by Sarah | Jan 22, 2014 | Character Interview, Guest Authors, Thursday Tell All, Writing
What is your story?
I was forced into a betrothal with my enemy—a Viking. It did not matter to me his handsome face or piercing blue eyes, he is a heathen.
Do you embrace conflict?
Depends on the type of conflict. I can use my dagger or bow just fine. But Bram’s kisses and how he makes my mind muddled, I would rather run away then deal with falling for him.
How do you see yourself?
As a confident and independent woman.
How do your enemies see you?
As a spoiled, pampered brat.
How does the author see you?
She sees me as needing to mature, which I did during the novel, and come to appreciate not only what others do for me, but love.
What, if anything, haunts you?
That I was so vile to Bram. The only excuse I can give is that I was scared of falling in love with him. Not too long before I met him, all Vikings were our enemy. We Irish fought among other clansmen, but Vikings were our common adversary. It was hard to ignore my prejudices.
Who is your true love?
Bram, my Viking. I fought my passion for him, but he won me with kisses, patience, and a little magic from a friend.
What is your most prized possession? Why?
The sword Bram had the blacksmith make for me. It has runes spelling out our names upon the blade. It is also light enough, being shorter, than other swords so I have no trouble using it.
What don’t you like about yourself?
I don’t like that I’m quick to judge and stubborn. If I had not been, Bram and I would have gotten together sooner, and perhaps avoided the traitor.
Do you currently have a lover? What is their name, and what is your relationship like? What are they like? Why are you attracted to them?
Bram is my lover and husband. Our relationship still has teasing, though I am quick to respond back in like manner now rather than with venom as I did before. I am attracted to Bram because he is loyal, patient, and a warrior when he needs to be. Of course, he is pleasing to stare at as well – being a handsome, cocky Viking.
*~*~*~*
| [amazon_link id=”B00DV0XJ9U” target=”_blank” container=”” container_class=”” ]Amazon[/amazon_link] | BN | iTunes |
Viking Fire is a Kindle Daily Deal until February 2nd! Only $.99!!!
Viking Fire Blurb:
In 856 CE, Ireland is a land of myth, magic, and blood. Viking raiders have fought the Irish for over half a century. Rival Irish clans promise only betrayal and carnage.
Kaireen, daughter of Laird Liannon, is suddenly forced into an arranged marriage with her sworn enemy, a Viking. She refuses to submit. With no mention of love, only land and the protection of her clan, she endeavors to get her betrothed banished from her country. Will love find its way around her stubborn heart?
Bram, the Viking, finds himself without future or inheritance as a younger son in his family. A marriage to the Laird’s daughter would grant him land if he swears fidelity and if his men will fight along with the Liannons against any foe—Irish or Viking. However, the Laird’s feisty daughter only holds animosity for him and his kind. Is marriage worth the battle scars of such a relentless opponent?
With the blame for a rival laird’s death treacherously set against the Liannons, Kaireen and Bram must find a way to lay aside their differences as an unforeseen darkness sends death snapping at their heels.
*~*
Viking Fire Excerpt: (condensed)
“I renounce Father for this.” Kaireen threw the elderberry gown.
“Shame on you and your children for speaking such.” Her handmaid, Elva, gathered the damask and then dusted off the rushes. “It’s a wonder one of the clim has not scolded you from your hearth for such talk.”
“No, curse Father for a fool.” She plopped on her bed and a goose feather floated away. With a huff, she leaned against the oak headboard. Red curtains puffed like a robin’s chest around oak poles supporting her wooden canopy.
Her bare feet brushed against the stone floor.
“You know your da arranged a marriage within a season.” Elva smirked.
Kaireen shook her head. “To another land holder,” and waved a hand in disgust, “not t-this heathen. Twice they raided our land in the last month alone. Now father wants me as wife to one of them?” She clenched her fists. “No, I will not marry this Viking.”
Elva smiled, reminding Kaireen of the rumors of her handmaid’s uncanny foresight.
Whispers of Elva making strange things happen and often blamed as the cause of Kaireen’s stubborn refusal to behave as a laird’s daughter should.
“You’ve not seen him yet.” Elva wiggled her brows.
“So?” Kaireen shrugged. “I would like to never see him.”
“Well then, would you not like to know if you have a handsome husband or not?” She waited for her response, but Kaireen scowled. Elva chuckled. “I would rather get a good look at him now than the morning after.”
Kaireen’s ears heated. “I am not marrying.” She shook her head for emphasis. “So there will be no morning, nor night, nor wedding.”
“If he is handsome, I may fight you for him.” Elva smiled, deepening the wrinkles around her eyes.
“Welcome to him either way.” Kaireen laughed.
*~*
Andrea’s Bio: Andrea has always created characters and stories. But it wasn’t until she was in her late twenties that she started writing novels.
What happened that ignited the writing flame in her fingers? Divorced, and disillusioned by love songs and stories. They exaggerate. She thought. Love and Romance are not like that in the real world. Then she met her husband and realized, yes love and romance are exactly like the songs and stories say. She is now a happy wife, and a mom to three kids (two boys and a girl).
Andrea writes paranormal and historical romance. When not writing or reading, one may find Andrea dancing in Zumba.
She believes in the power of change and counting each moment as a blessing. But most importantly, she believes in love.
Viking Fire Book Trailer: http://youtu.be/m1bPZ3nUyzs
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/AndreaRCooper.author
Twitter: https://twitter.com/AndreaRCooper
Author Website: www.AndreaRCooper.com
Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6934877.Andrea_R_Cooper
Blog: http://andrearcooperauthorblog.wordpress.com/
Pinterest: http://www.pinterest.com/andrearcooper/
by Sarah | Jan 15, 2014 | Character Interview, Guest Authors, Thursday Tell All, Writing
What is your story, Skillet?
I’m a black friend of our hero Aaron, with whom I saved the rabbits under his gramma’s porch in 1958.
The story opens in 1996 in Atlanta.
“Aaron and I grew up in the Deep South during turmoil that changed our lives forever. Those days, our friendship had to be a secret from his white family who thought I wasn’t worthy of their favorite son. I’ve loved that boy since we were chil’ren. I’m lookin’ forward to seeing him again.
“Sitting here on the shiny MARTA train, I can’t help thinkin’ about the past and wondering how much my South has really changed since I’ve been gone. My name is Skillet Hamilton, and I’m coming back to Georgia where it all began, at least for me.
“Bein’ home gives me a happy heart and makes me laugh at the memories that phrase conjures up. Every time Lyndon Johnson addressed the nation during our unsettled times, he had a heavy heart. We knew more about his heart back in the day than what he was doing to our country.
“Believe it or not, between Aaron and me, I was the lucky one. I experienced a loving, hardworking family and a clear set of values. Poor Aaron, his values changed daily. His capricious women folk, grandma and mother, couldn’t make up their minds about anything—‘cept me. I was off limits once we started school. They weren’t wishy-washy ‘bout that. They were—to put it nicely—confused. Ella, the old lady, was stuck in the past, not embracing the new ways. Her daughter, Lonnie Jo, Aaron’s mama, was stuck in the bottle or some other pleasure pit. It’s a wonder Aaron turned out so good.”
Do you think the author portrayed you accurately?
Very! I think she likes me.
Do you have any special strengths?
Good sense! Aaron got mixed messages. My family was solid. As you watch us grow up, you’ll see it’s a struggle for Aaron, but I seemed to find my place in the world.
Do you have any special weaknesses?
Yeah. It takes me a while to commit.
What makes you happy?
Once I figured it out, my life was just fine. It took Aaron longer, that’s why it’s his story. He’s the conflicted sort.
What are you afraid of?
Water. Can’t swim and don’t want to!
What do you regret?
That I wasn’t able to impart more wisdom to my buddy before he messed up his life. Or, before his mom did. Lonnie Jo was a pistol.
What is the most important thing that ever happened to you? Why?
Seminary. I learned even a saint has to compromise.
Do you have any hobbies?
Sports, especially running. I got a lot of practice running from Aaron’s gramma.
What, if anything, haunts you?
The look of loss on Aaron’s face when we graduated high school. He had a whole lot of livin’ to do before he could find the right woman.
*~*~*~*
| [amazon_link id=”B00HNEIZNU” target=”_blank” container=”” container_class=”” ]Amazon[/amazon_link] |
Tagline:
Unsettled times and dysfunctional families force the young lovers to rethink their values and find love between the States.
Excerpt:
(Aaron is asking advice from Skillet who is headed for Seminary:
The store would close in half an hour. They took their milkshakes to a booth. Aaron leaned over toward the center of the table. “I’m in deep shit, Skillet.”
Skillet blinked. “What’s goin’ down, man?”
“Remember my pretty blonde girlfriend?”
“Who could forget her?”
Aaron took a deep breath and whispered, “This wasn’t Melanie’s fault, Skillet. I was so damned busy with my own goals I didn’t see the whole picture.”
“What picture? What’re you tryin’ to say?” He pushed his shake aside and leaned in.
“I was working to become a doctor. I let things slide. She told me she was taking an antibiotic. I knew she was on the pill. What the hell kind of premed student am I not to remember that antibiotics can nullify the pill?”
Skillet smiled. “You’re gonna be a daddy?”
“Hell, yes. And we aren’t married. I don’t want to marry her, but I should want to. I should be crazy to marry her. Doesn’t the baby deserve a family with parents who care about it? I loved Melanie once, or thought I did. Now—”
“Now you’re gonna be a daddy.” Skillet slapped him on the shoulder. “What’s wrong with that? Lots of college kids are married and working while they’re in school.”
“I’m in love with someone else.”
*~*~*
Bio:
Julie Eberhart Painter was raised in Bucks Count, Pennsylvania, boyhood home of James A Michener. Julie is the author of Mortal Coil, Tangled Web, and the 2011 Book of the Year, Kill Fee, and sequel, Medium Rare from www.champagnebooks.com. Daughters of the Sea, e-book and print. Julie’s first paranormal romance, and Morning After Midnight are available from MuseItUp Publishing. http://bit.ly/1gpaO4R and other online e-book venues.
Twitter: @JulieEPainter
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Julie is a monthly blogger on http://thewritersvineyard.com/ , and feature writer for http://cocktailsmagazine.wix.com/fictionandgossip an online slick. Her nine flash fiction stories appear under http://bewilderingstories.com/bios/painter_bio.htm
Visit Julie’s Web site at www.books-jepainter.com
