Wednesday, March 30, 2016

In Too Deep @anitaphilmar - Swim in the #EggcerptExchange


This is a great way for authors to promote their books on each other blogs.




Here's my contribution to the fun.


Blurb for In Too Deep


On the banks of the Trinity River, Sadie Pepperman is looking for a chance to escape the demands of her in-laws. With her husband’s dead, they want her to marry her brother-in-law so they can take control of her farm.

Suddenly, the peace of the day is shattered when her best friend steps too far into the river. Rushing to save her, Sadie meets a handsome stranger that ignites her dormant lust. She sees her friend rescued by a steamship and backs away from Logan Jansen, only to turn her ankle.

The agonizing pain leaves Sadie with the inability to walk. Needing help, she offers Logan a place to stay if he’ll help with the chores on her farm. With his agreement, Sadie adds another problem to her list. Now, not only does she have to worry about how to bring her crops in from the field and run her farm alone but she also has to fight her attraction to Logan.

Can Sadie end her in-laws’ interference in her life,
run her farm alone,
and give love another chance?


Now for the Excerpt:

“Are you a friend of the woman who is drowning?”
Unable to certain what to say to the stranger, she nodded and worked to clear the lump in her throat. How did this man know about Carolyn?
“Move over. I’ll drive. If we hurry I should be able to save her and my friend.” He placed a foot on the side step of the wagon and crowded onto the bench.
She quickly scooted along the wooden plank, allowing him room to settle beside her. Long fingers closed over the reins and he tugged the leather from her grip.
He didn’t wait for an answer. Lifting the reins, he released the brake.
A loud whistle sounded from the river, followed almost immediately by the slapping of paddles against the water.
The man clicked his tongue to encourage Beauty to get moving. He drove the wagon closer to the edge of the river, creating a rough new trail.
Bouncing on the seat like a rag doll, Sadie tried to keep her distance from the man, even though the task was next to impossible with the constant swaying of the wagon. She continually brushed against his arm, shoulder and thigh. A particularly hard bump almost landed in his lap.
“I’m sorry, but you need to slow down,” she complained and straightened.
He drew back on the reins; the wagon rolled to a stop. His head turned in the other direction. He shifted away from her and jumped down from the wagon before she repositioned herself on the bench. “Damn that steamship. They’re rescuing them.”
A little stunned by everything that had happened, Sadie lifted a hand to her throat. Her gaze stayed locked on Logan until his comment finally registered. She glanced at the water and noticed a steamboat cruising down-river. A line hung from the side with two people hanging from the end.
She scrambled off the wagon to keep the boat in sight as it moved farther away. “Oh, no, where will it take them?”
“Probably to the next port, maybe Liberty or on into Galveston.”  When the steamboat rounded a bend and drifted out of sight, the stranger turned. His gaze grew in intensity as he scanned the length of her body. “I’m Logan by the way.”

Burned by his steady regard, Sadie glanced down at her attire. Heat stained her cheeks. The ribbon on her camisole had worked its way loose and the swell of her breasts lay exposed to his view. She’d been about to redress when Carolyn fell into the river. Lifting her hands automatically to cover herself, she bowed her head.
What should she do now?

Purchase In Too Deep at Smashword - https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/412197
Amazon - http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00IMQLOMC

Thanks for sharing,

Anita

Twitter: @anitaphilmar

Monday, March 28, 2016

#EggcerptExchange from Rogue's Hostage by @LyndiLamont #romance


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.

 
(Previously published by Amber Quill Press)

Excerpt from Rogue’s Hostage:

Holding the towel to his shoulder, he walked over and stood by the bed to check on the woman, who was still in a faint. Despite her pallor, he noted that her skin was fine, her nose straight and thin. She had a lower lip just full enough to entice a man to taste it, and a stubborn chin that dared him to try. Under different circumstances…

She was perhaps not as lovely as he’d thought when he first saw her standing in the clearing—her hair, the color of corn silk, shining in the sunlight. Still, she was tall and fair, with slender curves and shapely ankles visible beneath the short skirts of a farm wife.

And now she was a widow. He stared down at the woman and silently vowed to see that no more innocents died today.

The woman gave a soft moan and opened her eyes. When she spotted him, she shrank back against the wall, arms folded defensively across her breast. His gut tightened. He didn’t enjoy terrifying women, but fear should make her easier to control. She had already proven unpredictable.

Terror, stark and vivid, glittered in her eyes. "Who are you?"

"My name is Jacques Corbeau, lieutenant in the army of France. And you are my captive."

* * *

Mara inhaled sharply, panic building inside her. This couldn’t be real. It was all a bad dream. She would wake up soon and tell Emile about it, and they would laugh. And laugh and laugh and…. She swallowed the hysteria engulfing her.

"Madame, are you listening to me?"

The Frenchman’s voice, sharp and insistent, demanded her attention. "There is not much time. My companions are not patient men. We must leave soon, but first I want you to bind my shoulder. Where do you keep bandages?"

Her mouth and throat were dry when she swallowed, but she choked out an answer. "The trunk. Under the bed."

He squatted beside the bed, pulled out the trunk and rummaged through it. She watched his every move, unable to take her eyes off him, alarmed by the physical threat he represented.

He was a tall man who dominated the cabin as Emile never had, and his state of undress revealed nearly every inch of his lean and powerful form. Not only was he bare to the waist, but his breechclout and leggings failed to completely cover his thighs and buttocks. He had a wide-shouldered, rangy body and long, sinewy legs. He looked strong, virile, and infinitely dangerous.

A cold knot formed in Mara’s stomach. The French had killed her father and now her husband. What would they do to her?

She wrapped her arms around her waist. Her grandfather would say whatever happened was God’s will, but she rejected that idea. What kind of God allowed such awful things to happen?

Fearfully, she watched as the Frenchman shoved the trunk back under the bed and stood. He held out the bandages, and she froze. She couldn’t touch him, she just couldn’t.

The man’s heavy black brows drew together in a fierce frown, but his voice was without emotion. "Madame, I am all that stands between you and the men who killed your husband. I can be persuaded to act as your protector. It is to your advantage to do what I command."

He dropped the bandages beside her on the bed, then reached out to touch her hair. "Must I remind you, in my companion’s eyes, scalps are more valuable than live captives?"

Horror sliced through her fear. "Emile!" She shot off the bed and bolted for the door. The Frenchman caught her around the waist before she could reach it.

"It is too late, madame," he said in a hushed voice. "It is done."

"No," she moaned, as she fought to banish the image of a bloody scalp, raw flesh.

The Frenchman turned her toward him, holding her by the shoulders, and spoke in an insistent voice. "Listen to me and be sensible. You must be strong now. We have a long journey ahead of us."

Dazed, she stared at him. "A journey? To where?"

"Fort Duquesne."

Mara gasped. The dreaded enemy stronghold deep in the wilderness. She struggled to get free, clawing at his powerful arms.

He gripped her tighter, grimacing as he did. "Stop it! What chance do you think you have against three men? Do as I say and you will live. Refuse and…" He let the implication hang in the air between them.

Live. Yes, that was what she must do. She must bide her time and stay alive. Her brother would find her and exact revenge. But for now, she was on her own.

She straightened her spine and stared into the Frenchman’s eyes. "How do I know I can trust you, monsieur?"

He met her gaze, but a shadow darkened his eyes. "You have my word of honor."

Bitterness filled her. "The word of a Frenchman? What is that worth?"

"For the moment, madame, your life."

Rogue's Hostage is now available as an electronic download. For more information, go to http://www.lindamclaughlin.com/rogueshostage.html

 
This is the next to last stop of my Rogue's Hostage Blog Tour. Leave a comment here with your email address to be entered for a $10.00 gift certificate of the winner's choice: Amazon, Barnes and Noble, iTunes, etc. Contest ends March 3.

My thanks to Tina for hosting me today. Hope you are enjoying the Egg-cerpt Exchange.

 
Linda
 

Linda McLaughlin grew up with a love of history fostered by her paternal grandmother and an incurable case of wanderlust inherited from her father. She has traveled extensively within the United States and has visited Mexico, Canada, & Australia. A lifelong dream came true with a trip to England where she was able to combine sightseeing and theater with research for her novels. A native of Pittsburgh, she now lives in Southern California with her husband.
 
Her first book was Worth The Risk by Lyn O'Farrell. Now Linda writes historical and Regency romance. She loves transporting her readers into the past where her characters learn that, in the journey of life, love is the sweetest reward.

She also writes sexy to erotic romance under the name Lyndi Lamont.




Friday, March 25, 2016

Diana Rubino - Bootleg Broadway #EggcerptExchange




BOOTLEG BROADWAY, a story of debauchery and a little romance
by Diana Rubino

Booze, music, sex, murder, Prohibition… NewYork…what a time to be alive!
The birth of BOOTLEG BROADWAY:
 
With FROM HERE TO 14TH STREET set in 1894, I needed to set this a generation later, which happened to be the 1930s—with Prohibition and the Great Depression as the backdrop. This is the first book I ever wrote where I created the characters first, with nothing to do yet. The plot developed the way it did because of who they are. My goal was to get the protagonist Billy McGlory into one mess after another. This era couldn’t have been more suited to Billy’s adventures, a few of which he barely escaped with his life.
 
About BOOTLEG BROADWAY:
 
In this sequel to FROM HERE TO 14TH STREET, Vita and Tom McGlory and their three children are struggling to make ends meet.
 
It's 1932. Prohibition rages, the Depression ravages, and Billy McGlory comes of age whether he wants to or not. Musical and adventurous, Billy dreams of having his own ritzy supper club and big band. On the eve of Billy’s marriage to the pregnant Prudence, the shifty "businessman" Rosario Ingovito offers him all that and more. Fame, fortune, his own Broadway musical…it's all his for the taking, despite Pru's opposition to Rosie's ventures.

Meanwhile, Pru's artistic career gains momentum and their child is born. Can anything go wrong for Billy? Only when he gets in way over his head does he stop to wonder how his business partner really makes his millions, but by then it's far too late…
 
Nicknames from real life:
 
As in FROM HERE TO 14th STREET, a lot of characters have nicknames like Piggy Balls and Dirty Neck Bruiso. I sat around the table with my surviving aunts and uncles who were then in their 80s and 90s, and they rattled off these nicknames from ‘the old days’ in Jersey City like they made them up yesterday. That was a standard Italian neighborhood custom, everybody had a nickname. Some were more descriptive than others. But you didn’t just ‘get’ a nickname. You had to earn it.  
 
Some more nicknames from the old neighborhood:
 
Bruno Chicken Body
Butta Jeans
Charlie Burp
Chick a la zoo
Dirty Dicky
Dirty Neck Bruiso
Floody
Frankie Butch Butch
Gravel Gertie
Hoo Hoo
Jazzy Lou
Jijji Balls
Jinji
Johnny in for the pot
Juu-jo
Sloppy
Vigi-Leak
 
My fav passage from BOOTLEG BROADWAY (which made my aunt cringe):
 
Pru had kept closemouthed all day about what she was giving him for his birthday. He badgered and hounded her, but she wouldn’t give in.
As Ma began divvying up the rum cake, the doorbell rang, and Da came back with a long box. “This thing’s heavy. What’s in here, Pru? Billy’s tombstone?”
Billy cut the ribbon with the cake knife and slid the lid off. Wads of tissue paper filled the box. As he removed the last layer of covering and revealed what was inside, they all gasped—a sculpture of a naked man, in all his masculine glory—and fully aroused. He had one hand on his hip and one foot upon a pedestal on which was inscribed in bold letters, “BILLY.”
“Oh, crap.” His face turned red hot.
 
 
 
 
Where Did I Begin?
 
This was the first book I ever wrote where I created the characters first, with no storyline whatsoever. All I knew was that it was during Prohibition, and I wanted to get the main character, Billy McGlory, into one mess after another.
 
Here’s a prime example of that, in this excerpt:
 
Heading south on Madison Avenue, I heard the siren. I glanced into the rearview mirror and saw the unmistakable Greyhound radiator ornament of the Lincoln behind me. Cop car. All the gangsters drove Lincolns, which had a top speed of 80, so the cops had to get Lincolns to keep up with them. I tried to get the hell out of his way—he must've been going to a robbery or a diner or something. I pulled over, and he pulled up next to me. Oh, shit. It was me he was after.
I rolled down the window and asked sweetly, "Yes, sir, what can I do for you, sir?"
"License and registration please."
"Uh—what's wrong, officer? Did I commit a traffic violation?" As the son of the ex-Chief of Police, I should have been real comfortable around cops, but to tell the truth, they scared the hell out of me. The cops my father knew weren't the crooked ones. They were the straightassed ones, just like him, who fought Tammany and made a career out of busting crooks. They didn't have a price, like the rest of them. Hardnosed bastards, some were frustrated politicians and not smart enough to get into law school, so they enforced the laws from behind their badges. Hell, I was all for law and order, but these guys sometimes took it too far. "Your back license plate is missing."
Relief drained me. "Oh, drat. It must've got stolen. You know this city—just crawlin' with thieves."
"License and registration, please," he repeated, in what passed for a more menacing cop voice. Now he assumed his cop stance, pudgy fists on meaty hips, waiting while I dug through the glove compartment, tossing aside all the crumpled up sheet music and junk crammed in there. Oh, that's where my emergency pack of cigarettes was, and that old box of prophylactics! But damned if I couldn't find the registration.
"Uh—I can't find it, but it's my car, honest. I mean, it was a gift to me, but it's been paid for, it's not stolen or anything. I can probably find it in my penthouse. You wanna follow me there? It's only two blocks aw—"
"Step out of the car, please."
Uh-oh. I felt my bowels burning. I had two briefcases bulging with two shitloads of money in the back seat.
He poked his head into the car. "What's in the briefcases?"
"Uh—I dunno. I'm doing an errand for somebody."
"Yeah, I'll bet you dunno. Step aside, please."
"Hey, you got a search warrant?" I demanded.
But demanding a search warrant from a New York City cop was like demanding a shot of Scotch from Satan in the middle of Hell.
I didn't want to look. I turned my head and flattened my palms on the roof of the car, like I was being searched. I heard the clicks as he sprang the latches and his not-so-surprised "mm-hmmm" as he checked out the contents.
"Who you doing this errand for, sonny boy?"
What was with the "sonny boy"? He wasn't much older than me. I knew he just wanted to put me down. Screw that. I've been called a lot worse by much better cops than him. He obviously didn't know who I was. "Uh—I'd better get a lawyer or something."
"You'd better come with me."
"Look, uh—you wanna just take a few bills outta there and forget it?” I asked, real generously. “I mean, uh—we're all in this mess together, ya know—"
"Bribing an officer of the law is a very serious offense, sonny boy. You'll have to come with me. Park your car there, please."
"Here? But there's a hydrant here. I'll get a ticket."
 
 
 I CONSIDERED THESE TITLES BEFORE I CHOSE BOOTLEG BROADWAY (feel free to use any of these if you’re writing a book set during Prohibition or the Depression—it was a tough decision)
 
Headin' for Better Times
How Strange
If It Ain't Love
If I Had You
Never Let the Same Bee Sting You Twice
Opus One
PA6-5000
Puttin on the Ritz
Say it Isn't So
See if I'll Care
Smile


Somebody Loves You

Take the A Train

Thanks for the Memory

Under the Moon

When Dreams Come True

Wherever you Are

 

 

OTHER PROHIBITION BOOKS YOU’LL ENJOY:

 

The Stork Club - Ralph Blumenthal

Once Upon a Time in NY - Herbert Mitgang

Incredible NY: High Life & Low Life - Lloyd Morris

The Night Club Era - Stanley Walker

 

 

Purchase BOOTLEG BROADWAY:

 


 


 


 


 


 

 

Contact Diana:

 










Thanks for stopping by,

Tina

 

 

 

Thursday, March 24, 2016

Youthful Temptations - Can You Fall In Love at Any Age #EggcerptExchange #Romance

As you can see if my story -- I believe you can.

Blurb -
Single again, Linda Clayton is ready to let loose and have some fun. Jilted at a party, she met a younger man, Vaughn Reagan. He has an active imagination and allures her into his life by tempting her with seductive games.
 
Vaughn is thrilled to find a woman who doesn’t want children. He offers Linda a job so he can spend his days with her. Now, if he could only convince her to forget their age difference and enjoy the nights in his arms.
Excerpt:


“But did you meet anyone?” His father drilled the question at him like a staff sergeant. Ex-military, his voice struck the right chord to demand answers.

“Yes, but I’m . . .” he started, but his father interrupted.

“Then tell us all about her.”

“No.” Vaughn sprang from the couch and marched to the fireplace. Anger rumbled in his stomach, and a sour taste hit the back of his throat. He shoved his hands into his pockets and stared at the blue flame rising from the blackened wood.

Every time he met someone new, his father pushed and prodded until he wormed every detail about his relationship out into the open. To shake his dad off his back, he usually complied. But not this time. His attraction to Linda was special.

Why? The question raced through his head.

He shook his head and refused the temptation to use their encounter as a temporary diversion to soothe his father’s doubts about his sexuality.

“And why not? Is she married or something?” his dad inquired.

Vaughn clenched his hands into fists. His dad hated being in the dark about any subject related to his children.

“Wait, Big John, Vaughn will tell us when he’s ready.” His mother’s voice offered a token of peace in a discussion that could quickly erupt.

“Well, I’m ready now. So spill the beans, boy. I want to know who this girl is.”

Vaughn whipped around to glare at his father. The concern marking his father’s brow eased, and a grin spread across his face. A strong emotion punched Vaughn in the chest. His dad might be a pain in the ass, but he’d been there in every major event in Vaughn’s life. At the hospital, while he’d been fighting his bout with cancer, his dad pestered all the doctors with his demands for a cure. Now, the same determination called for Vaughn to find a wife and settle.

A prior conversation sparked in Vaughn’s memory. “Are you sure it’s a woman?”

“What?” his mom squealed.

His father shook his head. “Good try, but we’ve already had that talk.”

“When did you . . .” His mother stood and tugged her hand free of her husband’s. “I can’t believe you’d ask him such a thing.”

Vaughn recognized the trouble he’d laid at his father’s door. His mom could impale a man with her wrath. “It was a while ago, Mom.”

“And I had to ask.” His dad hammered a few more nails in his coffin.

“Why?” Her hands flew in the air and finally landed on her hips. The high-pitched tone of her voice echoed off the high ceiling. “I can’t believe you, Big John. The boy has a right to a private life. But no, you have to meddle where you don’t belong.”

“Come on, April. He might be a tough guy, but he’s also my son. I want to know what’s happening in his life.”

“No, you don’t. You’re trying to run his life.”

“But he should settle down and find a good woman like I have.” He leaned forward and grabbed his wife’s wrist. “It’ll give him a passion for living.”

“You don’t know that. Not everyone is guaranteed happiness simply because they’re married.” She tugged on her hand and took a few steps backwards.

His dad grinned, rose quickly, and caught her in a bear hug. “They would be if they married a woman as lovely as you.”

“John,” his mom yelped, her feet dangling in the air, before his dad dove for a kiss.

Vaughn laughed. His father could always soothe his mom’s ruffled feathers. He wondered if he’d ever find the special bond they shared with someone. A strand of auburn hair on his sleeve caught his attention, and a picture of Linda flashed through his head.

Could she be the one?

His father glanced at him and released his tight hold on his mom. “So, son, why don’t you tell your busybody mother about your new girlfriend?”



Purchase ebook at:
 

Wednesday, March 23, 2016

#EggcerptExchange with 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:



Monday, March 21, 2016

Pamela S. Thibodeaux - Choices @psthib #EggceptExchange




Blurb: Best-selling novelist and songwriter, Camie Rogers has penned numerous accounts of the secret love she holds in her heart. Country-Music Superstar Kip Allen has changed from the shy, humble boy, to the epitome of “star.” Can the two rediscover each other after one night of his Home is where the Heart is Tour?

Excerpt: Too soon, the concert was over, and security officers rushed her backstage. Waiting in the shadows apart from the throng of frenzied fans vying for autographs and pictures, she watched with concern as Kip raked his fingers through his hair. He heaved a tired sigh, insisted on no more autographs, and then headed for his dressing room.
Camie stepped forward, "Just one more autograph?" Kip turned at her soft request. His eyes lit with recognition, and he gave her an unreserved smile.
"Camie!" He enfolded her in a big hug. "What are you doing back here?"
A flush warmed her skin at the velvety-roughness of his voice. "I won the prize package from the radio station. You know: Front row seat, backstage pass, autographed C.D., etcetera, etcetera, etcetera." Her heart raced at his nearness, her body trembled in his strong embrace. Feeling way too comfortable in his arms, she disentangled herself and took a step back. 
 He grinned. "Great. You look good."
Her heart skipped a beat. "So do you." Electricity sizzled between them.
Always had.
Even in high school.
Theirs had been a subtle romance, underscored by sensual currents that hummed whenever their eyes met or they ventured into a conversation, both too shy to take the relationship further.
"What ever happened to us?"  She wondered aloud, finding it difficult to speak past her heart hammering in her throat. "I still get all tongue-tied when you're near." He smiled, that lazy, heart-stopping grin that drove females from age five to fifty into a frenzy.
 "You do?" he queried, pulling her closer once more.
The husky softness of his voice sent delicious shivers down her spine, and she choked on a yes.
"Me too." He stroked her cheek.
Her senses swirled at the tender touch. She placed her hand over his and gazed into his sea-green eyes. Whether a moment, an eternity, or the simple span of a heartbeat passed, she wasn’t sure, but she relished the encounter. He dropped his hand from her face and broke eye contact.
"I don't know what happened. I wanted to roam, you wanted a home." He chuckled at the corny rhyme.  "Sounds like the makings of a hit."


Purchase Links:
Pelican Book Group http://pelink.us/13N5j5g



Author bio: Award-winning author, Pamela S. Thibodeaux is the Co-Founder and a lifetime member of Bayou Writers Group in Lake Charles, Louisiana. Multi-published in romantic fiction as well as creative non-fiction, her writing has been tagged as, “Inspirational with an Edge!” ™ and reviewed as “steamier and grittier than the typical Christian novel without decreasing the message.”



Links:
Website address: http://www.pamelathibodeaux.com  
Twitter: http://twitter.com/psthib @psthib


Thanks Pam for sharing,

Tina

Friday, March 11, 2016

#Romance and Babies are a #GreatRead #ASMSG

One of the most popular sub-genres of romance happens to be stories written about women with children or women who are pregnant.

Why?

The struggles of bring a child into the world is one of things that connect women. The nine months of carrying the baby, child birth, trying to deal with nightly feedings, diapers, change in hormones, etc. Every woman who has gone through it has a story and those that haven’t want to know what to expect.

Yes, but why put it in a romance?

The natural progression of a loving relationship is to create a new life. That is not to say that people who don’t want kids aren’t in a loving relationship.
 

In my first book, “Pregnancy Plan,” my heroine wants children. Yet, she isn’t married and not involved with anyone. She is will to go to any extremes to conceive a child.

I believe other women know this pain. When I was single, I wanted a child too. I gave myself a deadline of thirty. If I hadn’t met someone and gotten married, I planned to look into other options for bringing my child into the world.

In my case, I was married and had two children by the time I was thirty.  However, women who want a child have a choice. They can have a child on their own and raise it themselves.









In IT Exec's Baby, Bree is struggling with how to raise her children alone after losing her husband. She is also suffering from baby blues, which is not helping with her depression. The other women in this story do there best to help which is another way women help women cope with problems.

If you are interested in reading more about either of these books I invite you to visit my website where you can read the 1st chapter of all my books.


Have a great day,

Tina



Thursday, March 10, 2016

#EggcerptExchange with Liliana’s Letter by @AlinaKField




 

 

THE MATCHMAKER MEETS

THE MATCHBREAKER

 

Liliana’s Letter

The Matchmaker

 

Lord Grigsby wants nothing more than to retreat to his study, but a promise to his long-dead sister has forced him back into society to broker the marriage of his nephew to the heiress whose money can save the young man’s estate. If only the young lady’s starchy hired companion would move out of the way. 

 

The Matchbreaker

 

Hired to launch an heiress’s society debut, seemingly straitlaced spinster Liliana Ashford’s future as a professional chaperone depends on the girl’s successful marriage. But Liliana had her own close encounter with a scoundrel years ago, and she won’t let her charge be forced into marriage to the same kind of rogue, no matter how hard the man’s widowed uncle tries to woo Liliana around to the match.

 

Secrets and a Scandalous Murder

 

A shadow from Liliana’s past appears bearing an unfortunate letter she wrote long ago, and then the earl is murdered, evoking the scandal of the season. While she scrambles to make a respectable match for her charge before her own past can be exposed, Grigsby sets about finding his nephew’s killer—and Liliana’s secrets.

 



EXCERPT

 

 

"You clearly don't approve of the match. Do you intend to openly oppose it?"

Her head whipped around, and she glared. "It's not for me to approve or disapprove. Katie—Miss Mercer—will decide."

Passion flashed in her eyes, sending an answering spark through him. She was magnificent, though so very mistaken. "Really? Then her father is more liberal than I expected."

She looked him over more closely. "What do you know of this matter?"

I might ask you the same question. Her tone had been stiff, like the crystallized dome covering bubbling lava. He fixed her with his sternest glare, not entirely surprised at her cheek.

His glower didn't impress her. She lifted her shoulders higher. Stood a little taller, proud, lovely, and filled with indignation.

Quite righteous indignation. He gave into an unmanly sigh, truly weary of his responsibility for Thomas. "I know a good deal, Miss Ashford. I have been negotiating for these nuptials. The arrangement is my doing as much as Mr. Mercer's. Much more than it is my nephew's. He is probably the least culpable, except for his abominable behavior."

She clenched her hands tightly. "I see."

"Thomas's mother was my older sister. I made a promise to her that I would look after him." Her gaze softened, and she bit her lip in a way that made him want to taste the part that she was nipping.

And where had that thought come from?

"And your nephew needs money and an heir."

He nodded. As a woman of the ton, of course she would understand how marriage worked. Marriage wasn’t about love, or the bride’s approval, or a plump lower lip that begged to be kissed.

"He needs money most of all. He has a younger brother in the army who would make a far more dutiful earl."

He covered his mouth with his hand. The words had rolled out, shocking him. He rarely spoke this frankly with any woman.

Very well, he never spoke this frankly with any woman.

She released a soft breath. "And there is the matter of the ore."

His mouth gaped and he quickly closed it. Mr. Mercer had shared that information? Well. "That part of the county is rich with newly discovered veins of iron."

That information brought her up straighter. She looked away, gazing intently at a thick, dark spot of foliage, making him want to pry into that sharp mind.

"I see,” she said. “I believe we should go back in now."

Not yet. He tucked her hand over his arm but did not move.  

 

Buy Links:


Kobo:





 

Alina K. Field Bio and links:

 

Award winning author Alina K. Field earned a Bachelor of Arts Degree in English and German literature, but she found her true passion in reading and writing romance. Though her roots are in the Midwest, after six very, very, very cold years in Chicago, she moved to Southern California and hasn’t looked back. She shares a midcentury home with her husband and a blue-eyed cat who conned his way in for dinner one day and decided the food was too good to leave.

 

Her debut novella, Rosalyn’s Ring, was the 2014 Book Buyer’s Best winner in the novella category.

 

Visit her at:





 

 

Pick your choice of 5 Q & A’s:

Interview with Liliana Ashford, heroine of Liliana’s Letter

 

  1. Nickname
    My brother and his friends always called me “Lil” as a nickname.
  2. Job
    Sadly, I was forced by circumstances to take employment as a companion to a wealthy young woman coming out into society. My job was to help her make a very good marriage.

  3. Favorite food
    I love a freshly made scone with good Devon cream, don’t you?
  4. Wealthy, poor, or somewhere in between?
    I was poor as a church mouse until I married Grigsby.
  5. Secret desire or fantasy
    I should love to see the pyramids and ride on a camel.
  6. What would you do if you won the lottery?
    Yes, we do have lotteries, but ladies do not generally participate. Still, if I could dream and find myself with a pot of money, I would establish a charity to help the young girls from the London rookeries into a better life.

 
Thanks for sharing and all the best with your book,

Tina