by Sarah | May 16, 2013 | Book Spotlight, Guest Authors, Writing
| [amazon_link id=”B00B5LB0JS” target=”_blank” container=”” container_class=”” ]Amazon[/amazon_link] | The Wild Rose Press |
Blurb
Lady Kendra Frazier is devastated. The love of her life just married another, and now all she desires is to be as far away as possible. Viscount Lawrie, Joseph Pinetti Gray, is facing financial ruin and needs a wealthy heiress. Luckily for him, Kendra’s impetuous nature has handed him the fortuity he requires to save his family’s downfall. But Joseph’s carefully cultivated plans come to a grinding halt when he finds himself falling in love for what should have only been a marriage of convenience. And how can an old cursed doll help?
Excerpt
He rushed over. “Thank God,” he whispered. He crouched down next to her. “Thank God,” he said again, touching his forehead to hers.
“Joseph? Lord Lawrie?” Her voice cracked. Her white glove was no longer white. He wished he could have protected her from that.
Leaning back, he peeled the stained fabric away.
Her hand clenched. “My hands—”
He brushed his lips over the tiny scars. “Your hand is perfect,” he said. “We’ll have to marry, you know.”
“Married. I’ve dreamed of marrying,” she whispered, smiling. Her eyes were dry, but in them he read the shock and fear.
Something tight squeezed Joseph’s chest, he found he could hardly breathe. Death hovered over them. While he might fail in creating bliss for Kendra’s last moments on this earth, he could offer her the whimsical fairytale.
Joseph dropped her hand and cupped her head with both hands. “Lady Kendra Frazier, would you do me the honor of becoming my wife, mademoiselle, s’il vous plait?”
With a stately incline of her head, she replied with a trembling smile. “I shall be honored, Viscount Lawrie, Chevalier Joseph Pinetti Gray. Lord Hardwick’s Marriage Act was enforced in Scotland, in fifty-four, so we’ve no need to post the banns.” A small hysterical laugh erupted. “Shall we escape to Gretna Green, my lord?”
Her spirit touched him as nothing else could. Even in the throes of shock and danger, she managed to recall his full proper name and title. He pulled her to him as heavy steps echoed on the wooden planks just beyond the door. But for a moment he could pretend they would live a long and fruitful life together. “Oui, Gretna Green suits my purposes, perfectly, love,” he whispered against her lips, before crushing them beneath his own.
The door crashed back.
Author Bio
Kae Elle Wheeler has a BA degree from the University of Central Oklahoma in Management Information Systems that includes over forty credit hours of vocal music. As a computer programmer the past fifteen years, she utilizes karaoke for her vocal music talents. Other passions include fantasy football, NBA & musical theatre season tickets, and jazzercise. Because to quote Nora Roberts to a one time question, if she worked out? Her reply, “You have to get off your ass.”
Kae Elle began has been a member of the Oklahoma Chapter of Romance Writer’s of America and the RWA since March of 2007. She grew up in the Dallas area and definitely considers herself a city girl. She does not limit her travels to Writer Conferences in San Francisco, Washington DC, Seattle, Dallas, New Jersey, New York City and Atlanta because Jazzercise has fun conferences too (Denver, Palm Springs and Orlando). You can’t keep her at home!
She is a member of several RWA Chapters, including DARA, The Beau Monde and Passionate Ink. She has held several positions in the OKRWA Chapter, currently serving as Programs Director. As an avid reader of romance and patron of theatre, her main sources of inspiration come from mostly an over-active imagination. She currently resides in Edmond, Oklahoma with her musically talented husband, Al, and their bossy cat, Carly.
www.klwheeler.com
www.kathylwheeler.com
www.twitter.com/kathylwheeler
by Sarah | May 15, 2013 | Book Spotlight, Guest Authors, Writing
| [amazon_link id=”B00BWBF8QM” target=”_blank” container=”” container_class=”” ]Amazon [/amazon_link]| B&N |
Blurb
In the Badlands of the Dakota Territory, a war is raging between good and evil, between angels and Satan’s three sons…
Earth Angel—Elizabeth Bonner’s plans for her wedding dissolve when she
discovers her fiancé in bed with her mother. To escape the pain, she flees to the rowdy mining town of Deadwood Gulch to claim a recently inherited gold mine. Only one person stands between her and hell—Gabriel King.
Dark Angel—Saloon and brothel owner, Gabriel, is a man feared by most, but he meets his match with Elizabeth. When her father dies in his arms with the request for him to look after his only child, Gabriel is determined to protect Elizabeth at all costs. 1876, Dakota Territory is no place for a Southern lady whose innocence is tempting as sin. Toss in a couple of trouble-making cherubs, and the Old West will never be the same.
Elizabeth and Gabriel—more than one war is brewing in the Black Hills…
Excerpt
But the moment Elizabeth opened the door and stepped inside―at exactly eleven―in that instant, Gabe realized he was wrong in his opinion of the woman. He literally jerked at the sight of her. His breath caught in his throat. His heart thundered in his ears. The compulsion to jump up and capture her, take her far away from the leeches in the office was almost overpowering in its intensity.
He was half-way out of the chair before he caught himself and settled back on the rich leather cushion. She wasn’t his―yet. But he’d well rectify that—soon. Gabe tightened his lips. The flare of impotent anger he already felt shot up three notches as Lawyer Ninon plastered a welcoming, duplicitous smile on his face for the new arrival. What hypocrisy! The sycophantic bastard. So smug. So–so apple polishing innocence! Damn, he hated unscrupulous worms like this Ninon lawyer.
From the first moment Gabe met the three, he hadn’t much cared for any one of them, now he understood why. He suddenly realized that instead of rats, he was in a room with oily sharks. Distaste curdled his insides, but he could hardly grab Elizabeth and steal her away, not out from under the nose of her fiancé and mother, or her lawyer.
A little voice niggled at his mind asking, Why not?
He cut his eyes toward the woman who’d just walked in. If ever there was a heavenly being, she was it. Yep, the fiancé was not only a cheating prick, but he was a stupid, cheating prick. How could good old Nicholas tussle between the sheets with Charity when he had this woman? What a dumbass swine.
Heavenly being? God above, he did have the weirdest thoughts sometimes, but for sure, Elizabeth didn’t look a thing like her mother, and thank God, she didn’t look like homely old Pete, rest his soul.
Her hair lay gathered around her face in loose ringlets, shiny as the gold nuggets Pete had mined. Sprigs of honey-gold curls swirled softly around her ears and temples. Thick, sooty lashes surrounded grape-green eyes that looked right through a man’s soul―and did.
Her furious gaze met his, held, clashed, and strayed to her mother and fiancé. She drew a deep breath as if to soothe a savage beast, but her cheeks looked flushed and he thought it had more to do with temper than the humid heat of a Southern spring.
Gabe raked his gaze over her, but hurried back to her tempting lips. Elizabeth’s mouth needed a man’s kisses. A plush bottom lip hinted at sultry softness. Her bow-shaped upper lip pulled a man’s gaze to it immediately and teased his imagination. Her mouth looked as decadent as the painting of the naked woman hanging above his bar in the Placer.
Author Bio
Tabitha Shay is the author of paranormal romances, Witch’s Brew, Witch’s Heart, Witch‘s Moon, Witch’s Magic, and Witch’s Fire.
A member of the Oklahoma Writer’s Federation, Inc., she has served as both a category chair and judge. Her books have been nominated for several awards, including the prestigious P.E.A.R.L. Award for Witch’s Magic and Witch’s Moon, which was also nominated for Best All Around Paranormal in 2008. Witch’s Fire won Runner Up for Best Paranormal Book of 2010 at LRC.
Ms. Shay is also the author of the contemporary western romances, Montana Men Series, In the Arms of Danger, No Holds Barred, Too Hot to Handle/Too Close to the Fire, and Wild, under the pseudonym, Jaydyn Chelcee.
Website: http://tabithashay.blogspot.com
by Sarah | May 14, 2013 | Books, Holiday, Hump Day Hook, Writing
Another Hump Day Hook!
Today I’m posting a little bit from my holiday story. Santa, Maybe was written for a submission call, but I ended up falling in love with Alan and Ivy. I even fell in love with the town they were to the point that I’ve decided to turn it into a series, with about 5 more planned at this point, all set around a holiday in this little town.
After many years without seeing each other, Alan and Ivy are going on a date:
One eyebrow quirked and she teased him with another smile. “It’s nothing you haven’t seen before.”
“Those are new.” He purposely looked back at her chest. “Motherhood did you good in many ways, Ivy.”
“Pig.”
“Oink.”
*~*
Hump Day Hook asks authors to post one paragraph of one of their stories, whether a WIP, one contracted, or already published. Please visit and comment on the participants – you might just stumble on the next great read for your library! To see more participants, click on the HDH banner below:
by Sarah | May 13, 2013 | Book Spotlight, Guest Authors, Writing
| [amazon_link id=”1894936833″ target=”_blank” container=”” container_class=”” ]Amazon[/amazon_link] | B&N |
Blurb
Wayne and Nancy grow up on opposite sides of the country, each certain they must have love better than what others will settle for. Something stronger, something richer, something worth searching for. During the turbulent nineteen-sixties, they meet while he is attending blue-collar Drexel, and she is at neighboring, Ivy League Penn. Although irresistibly drawn to each other, they must overcome obstacles posed by the class and social differences separating them, as well as opposition from both families, and later, a twist of fate that will be the cruelest test of all. Can they reach the emotional heights they seek? Can they overcome time’s downward pulling inertia? Coinage of Commitment is dedicated to all who ever paused and wondered about the altitude love might soar to.
Excerpt
Setup: Late Friday night, 1968, at Philadelphia’s 30th St. Subway Station. Wayne is looking from the trolley station, where he stands, to the adjacent subway train (El) platform.
As he watched absently, the girl from Sullivan’s came down the El station steps opposite him. She paused at the foot of the stairs, getting her bearings. Although adequate lighting bathed the platform, most riders took stock of others in the vicinity for safety’s sake. It was a natural precaution, instinctive for most, and especially important this late at night. She saw him, signaled recognition by a parting of her lips that was not quite a smile, then she lowered her gaze, turned, and strolled slowly out of sight to the other side of the stairway.
Seeing her again pricked him with an off-kilter joy, uplifting and refreshing, partly because she recognized and acknowledged him, but also because she seemed so buoyantly out of place down here, her bright beauty undefeated by the dank-smelling gloom of the subway. He smiled, turned away, and sauntered to the south side of the trolley platform. The minutes dragged, but no trolley car arrived. He began mentally composing a theme paper for his International Politics course, the only non-technical one he had that semester. Ideas came to him, prancing, and he thought of getting a notebook from his bag.
“Police! Help! Help me!” A woman’s screaming and it came from the El platform.
Thinking frantically of the girl, he ran to the north edge of the platform and jumped the foot or so that got him down onto the trolley tracks. A steel grate fence separated the two transit systems, but it had seen better days. A section was ajar, just ten feet to his left, and he swung it open enough to squeeze through.
Now things got difficult. The El platform was too high and far to jump to. The train tracks gleamed below him, the electrified rail closest, then the two steel tracks. He saw only one way to get there and didn’t slow down to analyze the risk. He threw his bag onto the opposite platform, then leaped forward, over the electrified rail, and down into the square trench that ran a foot and a half below and between the steel tracks. The platform loomed just above him, and the smell of ozone was stronger this close to the electrified rail—the one he must not fall back against. With his momentum still carrying forward from the jump, he kept moving, aware his footing and balance must be perfect. He reached up and grabbed the El platform edge, stepped up on the rail before him, then used his grip on the edge to lever himself up and onto the platform, landing on his right shoulder and side. Feeling no pain, he got to his feet and sprinted west down the platform toward the woman’s screams.
As he ran, he recalled what he had seen: the girl from Sullivan’s, a nondescript man, and three black youths: teens with their heads wrapped in dark bandannas, signifying…he knew not what. They were what fueled his urgency. Where was she? The commotion was still ahead of him.
He ran at top speed past the central vending area and spotted figures near the far steps. He could see her blond mane, somewhat disheveled now, and she stood with her arm across a shorter girl’s shoulder. The nondescript man ran up and joined them.
“He took my purse,” the other girl wailed. “I can’t believe I was so careless to let him get my purse that easily.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” the blond girl said, her arm still across the smaller girl’s shoulder in comfort.
“All my ID. A credit card. And I just got my paycheck cashed today. How stupid can you get?”
Another woman came down the steps and joined the group. As Wayne approached and slowed, a balding, thirtyish-looking man passed him from behind, joined the scene, said he had heard the commotion from above, and that a companion had gone to the toll booths to get help. Then two of the black youths he had seen earlier ran up from the west.
“He high-tailed it onto the tracks,” said the shorter of the youths. “He’s got choice of Thirty-third Street trolley or Thirty-fourth Street El station, so it looks like we kiss that one good-bye. You know what I’m saying? The Fuzz’l never collar that dude now.”
As though on cue, a police officer, complete with German Shepherd, came down the steps and assumed authority. The third black youth also joined the crowd. Wayne held back, not seeing what he could contribute by his late arrival. The blond girl had seen his running approach. Or had she? Her gaze had flicked briefly in his direction, then back to her charge. The tension eased with collective relief, and the officer started questioning the stricken girl, unpacking a notebook as he spoke.
Wayne thought of how the blond girl continued to be too distracted to notice him, and he felt bemused by the irony of his situation. He had arrived about 7.2 seconds too late to be of any use, even to the wrong damsel in distress.
His breathing slowed. Still not seeing anything he could contribute, he turned and walked slowly in the direction he had come. He needed to retrieve his bag from where he had tossed it onto the platform. When he got there, he picked up the bag and looked out over the gleaming tracks toward the trolley station. No way, he thought, realizing with a shiver the danger he had risked. The price of another transit token wasn’t nearly worth the peril. And then, as though to underscore the irony, his trolley arrived and then quickly departed. Oh well, might as well climb the stairs to the mid-level pay booths so he could get back down to the trolley station. He took his sweet time since he probably had at least a twenty-minute wait.
He approached the corner of the stairway, trying to remember whether the trolleys discontinued service during the wee hours. Suddenly the blond girl stood in front of him, her eyes wide, her expression anxious.
“It just dawned on me,” she said. “How did you get over here?”
Author Bio
Rob Costelloe’s contemporary love stories explore the height that love can reach. These are characters certain they must have love better than what others will settle for. Something richer, something higher, something worth holding out for. And something that will last through time. These aspirations invariably give plot directions a unique twist. Rob designs his own covers, and they strive to give an illustration of the plot tension within. Rob and his wife live near Houston, Texas.
Website: rcostelloe.com
by Sarah | May 13, 2013 | Books, Holiday, Tuesday Tales, Writing
The prompt this week is the picture to the left.
For the second week in a row I’m changing stories. This one is one of my new contemporary romance series’. The first one, Santa, Maybe, may or may not have a contract…and I wrote it as a stand-alone short story for a submission call, but I loved the town so much, I now have about 6 other stories plotted, all around holidays.
This particular short is as yet unnamed, but is to be set around Independence Day. This blurb won’t be the start of the story, but a chapter or two in…
Remember, this is a meme with many contributing authors, so make sure to click the link at the bottom of the image to take you to see more!
Anyhow, as always this is un-edited mostly, so forgive any errors. :
Amanda could hardly stand it. From where she sat at a table outside a small corner restaurant, the view was—eerie. A row of businesses lined up like old fashioned America, flags flying proudly.
A few people littered the streets, each greeting one-another by name.
By name? Who’d heard of that? Who lived like that? What town was really that small.
It was too good to be true. This whole damn thing was, not to mention that sexy mechanic that kept glancing her way. Clay’s clichéd good-ol’-boy attitude coupled with that southern accent was just too much.
When she thought he wouldn’t catch her, she’d take the opportunity to admire his long legs wrapped up tight in his Wranglers. The strong arms that his t-shirt revealed made her want to curl up in them and hear him tell her she was safe now. She’d almost believe it if he said in his cheesy, stupid accent.
He was probably just like Tony, anyway. If he wasn’t, then he was too good for her.
The wink Clay threw her way made her realize she’d been staring again. Heat flooded her cheeks and she turned deliberately away to take in the town again.
Lake Point.
Pffft. She hadn’t wanted to stop here, certainly had no intentions to stay long. According to Clay’s assessment of the crap car she’d managed to buy, she was quite stuck. It took her days of nursing the clunker along halfway across country.
It had to give up outside of what she could only deduce was Pleasantville.
Was that it? Had she ended up in an old TV show?
If only. Her luck couldn’t be that good. It never had been before.
*~*
Hope you enjoyed it! Click on the Tuesday Tales badge to see more excellent entries!!
*~*
by Sarah | May 9, 2013 | Guest Authors, Writing
I’m excited to have Lacie Nation stop by today to tell us a little about herself. She’s been here once or twice before, and with her new release coming up, I’m glad she hopped on over again. 🙂
*~*
1. Can you tell us a little about yourself?
I was born and raised in GA and while I’ve lived in other states such as Kansas City, Jacksonville FL, and a couple other places, I have always been and always will be a country girl. I like to wear pretty clothes, but I don’t mind getting dirty either.
2. Are you a pantser or a plotter?
Pantser for sure. I have never plotted a book out. I may know a general direction I want the story to go, but for the most part I just let the characters do their thing, or as we say in the south, their thang!
3. Can you tell us about the challenges you faced getting your first book published?
Ahh the first book blues…lol. I wrote a story called So Beautifully Broken. I went through so many ups and downs while trying to get it published. I finally found Secret Cravings and throughout the entire process of editing, editing, and oh yes, more editing, the staff was there for me through the whole thing. I am so thankful for they gave me a shot.
4. What was your favorite chapter to write and why?
Honestly, my favorite part of Gravity Beach to write was the prologue. I was able to really get into the emotions of the heroine. I guess a little of that was because I was a hot mess after writing the first book in this series, Courageous Dare.
5. Were all of your characters easy to write, or did some of them give you trouble? Any particular character you didn’t like at all?
Surprisingly, all the characters in this book were easy to write. I can’t really say I didn’t like any one particular character. Even the villain showed emotional depth…eventually.
6. Do you have any advice for aspiring writers?
Keep trying, keep writing, and never EVER let anyone tell you, you can’t do what you love.
7. In researching your book what did you learn that surprised you? Or, alternatively, what thing did you research that you never thought you would (and considered deleting from your browsing history)?
There wasn’t really any research to be done for this book. In Courageous Dare though I had to research certain aspects of what happens when a solider…on second thought, I won’t give anything away about the first book. *insert evil laugh*
8. Narrow down your novel. Why must we read it? (besides the obvious, it’s awesome answer…because of course it is!)
That’s a really touch one! I’m a firm believer that we can’t please everyone, so that being said I will let readers make that decision for themselves. I will say that if you like a story about second chances at love and healing from a tragedy, then this might just be the book for you.
9. Do you have any unique talents or hobbies?
I like to make book covers. Other than that, I’m pretty much your down home southern lady.
10. Which character speaks the loudest to you?
Jolie, the heroine. She is a tough chick who has been through hell and still came out on top.
11. Do you have another book coming out soon?
Not yet, but the plot bunnies are a screaming!
12. (For series authors) How many books can we expect to see in your series? Is the number tentative or set?
There are two, but there just might be a third from the ever hilarious Jamie. She’s a really fun character, but there may be darker days to come for her. The number is tentative. There are three friends so it would make sense for all three of them to get their own story.
*~*~*~*
Blurb:
Jolie Baker had it all, amazing friends, a college degree, and a man she planned to spend the rest of her life with. When her love is killed in action, Jolie has to learn to live again. Three years after Ethan’s death, she moves to Gravity Beach to start a new life. At her new teaching job, one of her students is surprised when her father returns home from war. Jolie never imagined how important the returning solider and his daughter would become.
David Stokes wants nothing more than to raise his daughter, Madison, and give her the best life he can. Because Madison’s mother abandoned them, David is all she has. When he meets his little girl’s teacher on the beach, he is surprised by how much he wants to know her. David sees the pain in Jolie’s eyes, but will his love be enough to ease her tattered soul?
Excerpt:
Jolie wanted to say something profound to him. She wanted to tell him how much she loved him. How important he was to her very being. But, when she pressed her hand against his chest every single word left her brain. There was not a single trace of his normal warmth. His chest, normally firm, because he was a muscular man, now was hard to the touch and she could feel the coldness radiating through the thick layers of his uniform. Jolie jerked her hand away and stumbled back. She couldn’t catch her breath. Her heart beat so fast it was painful. She needed air, so she rushed back through the mourning people and crashed through the front doors of the funeral home. The fingers she’s pressed to his chest still felt cold and the chill seemed to be spreading throughout her entire body. Jolie wanted her love back. She wanted her life back. She wanted Ethan.
