Oops! This won’t work #MFRWHooks

This is a blog hop. Be sure to check the link at the bottom to see posts from other authors!

Naval Maneuvers by Dee S. KnightBlurb:
Men and women of the armed forces experience lust and love pretty much like everyone else. Except, well, there is that uniform. And the hard-to-resist attraction of “duty, honor, service” as a man might apply them to a woman’s pleasure. All things considered, romance among the military is a pretty sexy, compelling force for which you’d better be armed, whether weighing anchor and moving forward into desire, dropping anchor and staying put for passion, or setting a course for renewed love with anchor home. Explore the world of love and the military and see just how hot Naval Maneuvers can be.

Dropping Anchor (securing movement by dropping the anchor): Two people find (surprisingly) that they are both in the Navy and love their chosen professions—until one turns out to be an officer but not a gentleman and the other is a gentleman but not an officer.

Buy link:
Kindle Unlimited

MFRW Book HooksExcerpt:

Carie made her way around the side of the building and nearly ran into Todd, who lounged against the weathered wood siding. He looked better than good in a pale blue polo shirt and jeans. Top-Sider boat shoes with no socks gave him that naturally casual look that no model could successfully carry out.

“I was hoping you’d come,” he said.

“You were pretty obvious,” she said dryly.

“I knew you were smart enough to catch the hint. I just didn’t know if you’d follow it.”

How could she not? The moment she noticed him she’d remembered the feel of his being deep inside her. But that didn’t change a damn thing. They shouldn’t be here, not together.

She held her head high and tried to look down her nose at him—nearly impossible since he was taller than she, but she had perfected the attitude long before meeting Todd Baxter. Senior Chief Todd Baxter. “I wanted to walk the beach while I was here, that’s all.” Todd grinned and Carie melted inside.

“Lucky for me, I wanted to walk the beach, too,” he said. “Quite a coincidence, huh?”

She snorted in disbelief and slipped off her sandals. Brushing by him, she was glad he didn’t try to kiss her or hold her. But then she frowned. Why didn’t he try to kiss her? She’d wanted to jump his bones right there in that Norfolk hallway. They had to maintain propriety then, but here, no one would see them. What held him back? She knew an unfamiliar sense of self-doubt. Had she mistaken his feelings before?

Nonsense. Carie knew what they’d had was more than mere lust. It had been lust of stupendous proportions, far beyond a few days of burning out. Then what held him back? Knowing the military regulations preventing officers and enlisted personnel from having a relationship, you idiot.

Damn. She finally found someone she clicked with, and he had to be an enlisted man in the Navy.

The sand felt good between her toes, cool and squishy. Gulls screeched overhead and on the sand, where they snatched up sand crabs and poked around for scraps sunbathers might have left. Surf pounded to the shore and then surged forward, the sharp white of its foam sharp against the dark, wet sand before the water was absorbed. The sun beat down, making her wish she’d worn her bathing suit under her jeans and tank top so she could take a quick dip, and remembered to bring a floppy hat to shield her face.

Suddenly, something was plopped on her head. She dragged it off to look at it. SFC Baxter was stamped on the inside of a white sailor hat, brim folded down.

“I kept it for sentimental purposes when I made chief,” Todd said. When she raised her brows, he continued. “I brought it in case you came without a cover. I remember you were sensitive to the sun when we went to pick up your clothes.” He smiled. “And I know you’re quick to freckle. Not that I don’t like your freckles a great deal. Ma’am.”

She cringed at his use of “Ma’am,” though it was the proper term for him to use when a superior officer was a woman. But she smiled inside that he’d remembered such a small thing like the sensitivity to the sun suffered by all redheads. Chagrined, she put the hat on and pulled it forward, shielding her eyes from the sun.

“After all that time in North Carolina, how in hell did we never mention what we did for a living?” She couldn’t believe her stupidity. Martha had nothing on her for not asking the right questions.

“In Carolina we had lots of other things on our minds. I knew you’re a lawyer. When I thought of you, I never wondered how you spent your time at work. I just thought of how you spent your time with me.”

“That’s pretty shallow.”

Todd laughed. “Not to a man.”

Stupid answer. But it had been his very maleness that captivated her. Well, and orgasms. Who’s shallow now?

Powered by Linky Tools

Click here to enter your link and view this Linky Tools list…

Addison Brae’s newest: Dark Energy!

Dark Energy by Addison BraeHow Characters Find a Place to Call Home
Many authors invent heroines who return home to family and childhood friends. Other novels center on characters who yearn to create new homes as far away as possible from where they grew up. These characters are usually escaping bad memories.

Gillian, the heroine in Dark Energy, opted to leave her small-town childhood home of Sugar Creek, Missouri behind. She secured a scholarship to Harvard, graduated early, and headed to Dallas for warmer weather and a fresh start. As a mama’s girl, her world crashed when her mom lost her battle with breast cancer, which threw her dad into the bottle. Luckily the bar was only a block from their house, so he could stumble home safely. Gillian could mix the best martini of any 12-year-old.

While creating Gillian’s character, I researched middle-America towns near metropolitan areas that fit Gillian’s roots and found Sugar Creek. Visual mapping and websites helped me locate her schools, part-time job, the newspaper where her father was the editor, home, and the bar in the next block.

I also visited Sugar Creek to make sure this town works, and the charming town does. Sugar Creek has a Moose Lodge, town gazebo, and shady streets lined with pre-WWII homes. Best of all is the Kross Lounge & Restaurant. It’s exactly the place I picture as the local bar where Gillian’s dad was a regular. It’s a place where everyone truly knows your name, which is why I got strange looks from everyone there. I ate lunch at the bar and chatted with the bartender who had worked there for 19 years. When I told her why I was visiting, she nodded and agreed she would likely be the one who made sure Gillian’s dad made it home.

Blending fiction with real settings and situations helps create relatable characters. Most people who’ve worked hard to start over in a fresh place will understand why Gillian might call her new Dallas neighborhood home.

 Blurb:
Cybercrime doesn’t talk. It creeps in and destroys lives right under Gillian’s nose when a cryptojacking scheme lands her boss, Pinkie, in jail. Gillian had just started over with a new career, boyfriend, and confidence after escaping a vicious murder investigation that shattered her ability to trust. Then Pinkie’s arrest leaves her struggling to run his two bars while also unraveling the conspiracy.

 Gillian will not let her mentor and friend go down for something he didn’t do. Neither will Jon, the most talented musician on the bar’s stage and the perfect boyfriend…until his good fortune sends her reeling. Gillian forces herself to trust the cops, people who hurt her, and known criminals. Will it be enough to free Pinkie and save her life?

Links:
Read more about Addison Brae on her website, Tirgearr Publishing, Amazon, and BookBub.

You can find Dark Energy (Return to Becker Circle) on Amazon US, Amazon UK, Amazon Canada, Amazon Australia, Smashwords, Apple Books, Kobo, and B&N Nook. A portion of the author proceeds will go to Staff Meal to help provide meals and other aid to restaurant workers in need during the pandemic.

Excerpt:
I rest my forehead on the window and breathe to gather what little nerve remains. People stroll the sidewalk like tonight’s a regular Saturday night. Cars drive past like nothing has changed. The neon that traces the perimeter of the high rise across the street cycles through a rainbow of colors. Inside, the crowd hum creeps back. A shaker and clanking bottles sound from the bar.

I’m sure this is a little misunderstanding. Pinkie will be back tomorrow. Thoughts race through my head. They’re only words, not answers. Certainly, they’ve made a mistake and arrested the wrong person. What do I do right now? Face this head on?

Ignore it? Tell patrons, “thanks for being part of the Pinkie’s Too grand opening. The band starts shortly, so order another round and enjoy!”

What’s Pinkie’s Too without Pinkie? The answer is entirely up to me to figure out.

First, get through tonight. Start the band. Keep food and drinks flowing, so customers stay happy and don’t ask questions. Talk to each crewmember individually and make them feel secure. We can’t afford to lose anyone else. Then hope Pinkie is back here tomorrow, laughing about how the feds are so useless they couldn’t play dead in a cowboy movie.

Before I talk myself out of it, I turn and face the music. Teran is the first person I encounter.

“Man, what a shocker.” He shakes his head. “Not what I’d expect from Pinkie. I can open and close, you know, help you manage, handle the books, whatever you need to cover until he’s back.”

“Uhm, thanks, Teran. I’ll let you know.” I can’t even process what he’s saying, so I keep walking.

“Ma’am,” a patron says as I pass their table. “Is everything okay?”

No, everything’s not okay. The cops just yanked my friend, my mentor, my boss out of the bar on opening weekend. “I’m sure it is. Thank you for asking. How’s everything?”

“Good so far,” the customer rattles back. “Hope whatever that thing was works out.” I slip into automatic mode. Greet table after table. Tuck away the terror, mistrust, and unanswered questions in a safe place where no one knows they’re there.

This is exactly how I survived the five years at home before Harvard after Mom died, and Dad drowned deeper into the bottle. My teachers, Mom’s friends, and people around town asked the same question.

“Is everything okay?” Considering I was twelve when it started, and Dad was the only one I had to take care of me, my answer was always yes. I carefully compartmentalized my sadness and fear of the future so everyone would believe Dad and I were the perfect little family.

Bio
Addison BraeAddison Brae lives in Dallas, Texas on the edge of downtown. She has been writing since childhood and continues today with articles, video scripts and other content as an independent marketing consultant. She writes romantic suspense and contemporary young adult fiction. When she’s not writing, Addison spends her time traveling the world, collecting interesting cocktail recipes and hosting parties. She’s still addicted to reading and enjoys jogging in her neighborhood park, sipping red wine, binge-watching TV series, vintage clothing and hanging out with her artistic other half and their neurotic cat Lucy.

Connect with Addison Brae on Instagram, Twitter, Facebook and YouTube.

A reflection from behind the mirror #MFRWHooks

The Woman Behind the Mirror by Jan SelbourneThe Woman Behind the Mirror

Blurb
Because of an arranged marriage to a man who repulses her, Sarah Forsythe runs away with the son of a minister. Not to Gretna Green, to the New World. Instead of a country filled with hope and possibilities, Sarah finds broken promises, abandonment, and shame. And her timing couldn’t be worse! After the infamous “tea party,” the siege of Boston worsens as the Americans rebel against Great Britain. Desperate for money, Sarah breaks open a safe only to find a bundle of Bank of England documents. Sensing they are of value, she guards them during the long, difficult journey from Boston back to England.

Bank investigator Neil McAlister doesn’t believe this woman who claims she “found” the documents and wants a reward in exchange for them—until he’s faced with two men using the same name and sharing nearly identical stories, each saying the documents belong to him. Who is lying? In time, Neil becomes aware that something is very wrong. As his feelings for her grow, he needs to know who wants the beautiful, defiant, and secretive Sarah dead?

Buy links

Amazon Kindle Unlimited
Goodreads

MFRW Book HooksExcerpt
When the small clock on her mantlepiece chimed seven fifteen, Sarah patted her hair and opened the door. Taking a deep breath, she walked down the staircase again and into the small breakfast room

“Good morning, may I join you?”

Robert put down the paper he was reading. “I prefer to breakfast alone if you don’t mind. Hannah doesn’t arise until after I leave.”

Sarah pulled out a chair and sat down. “I’ve been absent from England for some time, but I have not forgotten our customs. I want to speak with you about your holier than thou sermon to me last night, and I want to ask you a question.”

Robert’s face darkened. “I will remind you that you are in my home and if you wish to remain here you will abide by my decisions.”

Sarah reached over to grip Robert’s wrist. “I did a very stupid thing running away with David. I was young and so naïve it was pathetic. I have paid for my stupidity in more ways than you will ever know. However, I will tell you the siege of Boston was much worse than you, in your safe cocoon could imagine. Along with many others, I was forced into an infirmary for survival. The conditions were appalling but the alternative was starvation or disease or be murdered on the street for our clothes. Nova Scotia was not much better.”

Robert didn’t move.

“Your condemning letter was the only communication I had from home. You made it very clear I was shameful and shamed, and I could not argue with that. Then your letter inviting me here was a gift from the gods. I have paid for my sins and you have no right inviting me here to condemn me with your self-righteous judgements. Nor do I have to live here under sufferance listening to them. I have learned of Lady Webber’s new benevolent home for destitute women and I have decided to go there. It won’t matter to the inmates who I am or what I have done. What they and the benefactors will think of you is not my concern.”

Robert’s face was rigid with shock. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

Her fingernails dug into his wrist. “I can be as ridiculous as I wish. Now, I have a question and I’d like a truthful answer. You told me our father disapproved of Hannah. You defied him and married her. He decreed you’d married beneath your class and turned his back. How that must have hurt Hannah who has done no wrong. Tell me, why are you trying to be a replica of him? Pompous, autocratic, a dreadful snob and an unfeeling husband who delights in putting his nice, gentle wife down.”

Sarah sat back in her chair. “Papa decreed Hannah wasn’t good enough. I don’t think you are good enough for her.”

“You have no right speaking to me in such a fashion!”

“I have spoken to you and if you have half a brain you will admit I spoke the truth.” Her eyes narrowed. “I am not the innocent, protected girl running away from a prison of a home and a ghastly father who treated mama and all of us so badly. What I endured made me grow up and I learned that men are overbearing, selfish, spineless creatures. You are disappointed in me Robert? I am more than disappointed in you.”

“You’ve said more than enough,” Robert said icily.

“I’ve said exactly what I wanted to say. I had intended asking your advice on two important matters. One, some papers I found in Boston and two, a young woman I met who, I believe deserves some justice. However, I doubt you’d lower yourself.”

Sarah stood up and walked from the room drained but relieved the load on her chest had lifted. “Why?” she whispered. “One stupid mistake and I pay for the rest of my life.”

Yes, the voice in her head agreed. No one wants tainted, soiled goods. Live with it or enter a convent.

“Oh, shut up!” Sarah snapped but her throat was already aching. Dipping a handkerchief in the jug of water, she wiped her face and looked out the window. Spread out below were the rear gardens and orchard bathed in soft morning sun. She would love a garden like that.

A knock on the door made her jump.

“Yes?”

“May I come in?” Hannah asked softly.

Hastily wiping her eyes, Sarah turned around. “Of course.”

“I wanted to speak with Robert before he left this morning. The door was slightly ajar, and I heard what you said.”

Powered by Linky Tools

Click here to enter your link and view this Linky Tools list…

Exhibition #MFRWsteam

Your Desire by Dee S. KnightYour Desire

Blurb:
Your Desire. A mysterious shop appears in town for one reason: to bring the spice of passion and the thrill of love to one special person. Magic is in more than the item purchased—it’s in the heart of the buyer, often hidden, usually surprising. And after enchantment takes hold ad the fantasy is fulfilled? The store fades from sight and memory, only to reappear somewhere else. Maybe in your town…?

Buy link:
Amazon

MFRW SteamExcerpt:

Suddenly, the music stopped. All lights on the dance floor went out. Seconds later, a slow number began. Without the moving strobes criss-crossing the room, it was surprising how lighting from the table area illuminated the dance floor. When he raised his head, Derica saw Kailen’s hooded eyes had darkened. He wrapped his hands over her butt and pulled her closer, until she almost forgot where they were.

Like a well-choreographed dance, they swayed together, her hips grinding his, her nipples scraping his chest.

“God, I want you,” he said into her ear. Reaching under her skirt, he stroked her cheeks. She spread her legs enough for him to slip his fingers between her lips. “You’re so wet.” Leaning back so he could look at her, he asked, “Have you ever made love in a public place?”

Shocked yet titillated, she shook her head. Licking her lips, she glanced at the slowly moving couples around them.

“Come on.” He took her hand and pulled her off the floor. Behind their table, a hallway extended to the back of the building. A few feet along the hall was a short offshoot.

A black pay phone hung on one side. Kailen backed her up opposite it. His tongue filled her mouth while his fingers fumbled with the buttons on her blouse, then his shirt. Skin to skin, he pushed against her, side to side and up until she stretched on her toes to meet him. She felt his hands fumbling with the button, then lowering the zipper on his jeans. His firm hands grasped her thighs and pushed her skirt to her hips. With his hand under her knee, he brought her leg to his waist, then thrust into her in one swift drive.

“Oh!” From a distance she heard people passing, even making comments about the couple fucking by the pay phone, but nothing mattered except this need, this itch, the feeling of completeness she felt when Kailen filled her. Each hard thrust took her a step closer to climax.

“I think Sandra would like to be where I am now,” she said in his ear, panting to get the words out. The way the woman had looked at Kailen, as though she owned him, tore at Derica. If that was him with her in the painting….

He grunted. “She’s a bitch. Nick should drop her.”

“She wants you.” The thought of people around them, their public display, the reassurance that Kailen was here with her, pushed her on. Just a little more and she’d be free of this burning ache low in her belly.

“She’s a bitch in heat. She wants every man. Except Nick, and that’s what drives him crazy. It’s been that way since they met, modeling for me.” He raised his head, holding himself still inside her. “Do you wish it was her with me instead of you?”

Her low, hard laugh took her by surprise. “I’d pull out every strand of her hair if I found her back here with you. And then I’d get nasty.”

His chuckle warmed her. “That’s my girl.” Then his smile disappeared. His gaze dropped to her lips and he took them in an almost savage conquest. His cock drove into her, giving her everything she craved.

The metal of his zipper teased the tender skin of her thighs. His open mouth found her shoulder where he sucked and then scraped her with his teeth. Without warning she felt herself soaring. She held her breath, trembling, unable to speak or even moan. But Kailen moaned, pressing his forehead to hers, pulsing inside her and holding himself rigid as he climaxed.

He dropped her leg and sagged against her. “I don’t think I can move.”

Breathing in short, shallow pants, coming down from her own high, she knew how he felt. With effort, she raised her arms to wrap around his back. Someone behind them cleared his throat. Kailen pushed away from the wall and turned, shielding her with his body.

“Thanks for the show,” a soft voice said, then footsteps moved off.

Read some steam from other authors. Click the link below.

Powered by Linky Tools

Click here to enter your link and view this Linky Tools list…

New Release! Through the Lens by Adriana Kraft

Through the Lens by Adriana KraftAbout Our Story
Does your family history contain scandal? Ours does, as recently as my mother’s grandfather, who was born a bastard in an era when that status carried far more stigma than now. His mother – a logger’s daughter who served as a camp cook – was shunned and shamed for much of her life. On the other side, my husband’s grandfather was a bigamist. A threshing crew foreman in the early 1900s, he married and had children in Missouri, then married again in Kansas. My husband’s grandmother divorced him when she learned of the other family; their son, my husband’s father, was ten years old.

We blessed—or perhaps cursed—our Through the Lens heroine with elements of these scandals. Naturally, she’s heard some of the stories. Through the Lens chronicles her struggle with these long-forgotten roots. Will she claim them, or run the other way?

Blurb

Prairie roots can be deceptive. Will Ellen Jeffers cling to the sedate past that’s familiar, or will she embrace a different version of her history—one that includes tragedy, scandal, fortitude, and freedom?

It’s 2002, and South Dakota third grade teacher Ellen Jeffers has signed up for a photography summer course and assistantship at an art academy in Minneapolis. Thirty-three, divorced for nearly a decade from her college boyfriend, she’s not seeking major change. She just hopes the course will enhance her teaching skills and her resume.

Aaron Brewster comes from privilege, and he has used that status to flaunt his family’s values and carve out a successful career as a photographer specializing in black and white erotic portraiture. Has he ever loved? His love is for beauty, sensuality, eroticism. His new uptight teaching assistant will never fit that vision. Should he send her packing? For reasons he cannot fathom, he takes her on as a challenge.

Aaron’s frontal assault shocks Ellen, but it also triggers something deep inside she’s never been willing to acknowledge. Is her beloved prairie a safe refuge, or will it become a crucible for transformation? The choice is not merely Ellen’s.

Buy Links

Amazon https://www.amazon.com/Through-Lens-Adriana-Kraft-ebook/dp/B08BZXMNNW/

Barnes & Noble https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/through-the-lens-adriana-kraft/1137261501?ean=2940164557683

Kobo https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/through-the-lens-5
Extasy https://www.extasybooks.com/978-1-4874-2955-3-through-the-lens/
GoodReads https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/54475455-through-the-lens

Through the Lens by Adriana KraftReviews and Endorsements for Adriana Kraft Books

Wow, what an incredible book! Not only is The Merry Widow a gripping, romantic suspense but the heat level is hotter than Death Valley… The ending took me by surprise and I was a little sad to see it end. I grew attached to the characters and wanted to stay in their world a little bit longer. The Merry Widow will be on my keeper shelf and one I will be re-reading again and again. Highly recommend!   N. N. Light

Their romance is hot in all the right places…If you love romance with more than two people, you’re going to love this book! Seducing Cat is a must read! The TBR Pile

Filled with warmth, blazing hot sex, well-developed characters and an interesting plot…not for the faint of heart.  If you are looking for an interesting story filled with scorching hot erotica, author Adriana Kraft’s novel Vegas Gambler is the book for you. Romance Junkies

Ms. Kraft has a gift for pleasing the reader with vivid imagery and erotic language. Fasten your seat belts – Cherry Tune-Up is one hot ride that you don’t want to miss. Romance Junkies

Definitely recommended The Reunion sizzled as two incredibly sexy women and one gorgeous guy form a super hot triad, eventually. These three are by far and away the best smoldering trio I have read about. Oh, bring on more of this, but read this one first!  Rainbow Reviews

About Adriana Kraft

When it’s Time to Heat Things Up

Award winning author Adriana Kraft is a married couple writing Sizzling Romantic Suspense and Erotic Romance for Two, Three, or More. Whether readers open our romantic suspense or our erotic romance, they can expect characters they care about, hot sex scenes, and a compelling story. Our suspense stories deliver one man, one woman, danger and intrigue. Our erotic romance is edgier and nearly always includes ménage or polyamory, sometimes with two women and a man, sometimes with two (or more) couples. We write our Erotic Romance stories to entertain, of course, but most of all we write them because we believe in happy endings for all who fall in love, whatever their gender, sexual orientation or numerical combination.

Social Media Links

Website: https://adrianakraft.com
Blog: https://www.adrianakraft.com/blog
Newsletter: free download of our erotic romance novella Cherry Tune-Up for signing up.

Twitter https://twitter.com/AdrianaKraft
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/adriana.kraft.5
FaceBook Fan Page https://www.facebook.com/AdrianaKraftAuthor
Amazon Author Page https://www.amazon.com/author/adrianakraft
GoodReads https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/1578571.Adriana_Kraft
Pinterest https://www.pinterest.com/adrianakraft5/
Instagram https://www.instagram.com/kraftadriana/
BookBub https://www.bookbub.com/authors/adriana-kraft

Adriana KraftExcerpt

Fixing his gaze on the rather stoic woman sitting across from him at the small table in his academy office, Aaron Brewster tried his best to get a good read on her. He’d spent much of his life reading women—their moods and their desires. He’d developed a reputation for being adept at capturing feminine subtleties in black and white.

Ellen Jeffers was one of those rare women who defied immediate description. She vacillated between projecting an air of haughtiness—which he supposed came with being a schoolteacher who seldom believed her audience understood her—to projecting an air of innocence characteristic of a girl from the South Dakota prairie making her way in the unfamiliar big city. And in between those poles, he witnessed prim and proper, mystery, smugness, disdain, awe, shyness, self-censure, and thankfully a spark or two of humor.

If she was going to work with him, he’d have to get her in front of the camera. It was through the camera lens that he could best sort out the nuances of a woman and his own feelings about her. Keeping his smile to himself, he wondered if his summer teaching assistant had ever posed in the nude.

He needed help with his tits-and-ass study, but the way Ellen Jeffers blanched at some of nude pics hanging on his office walls, he wasn’t sure she’d be helpful with that project. He’d take a wait-and-see position about her usefulness. At the very least, he needed an assistant comfortable enough in her own skin to help models prepare themselves for the scrutiny of the camera.

“Do you only do nude portraits?” Ellen asked, glancing quickly from one photo to another and back to him.

“Some subjects are partially clad,” he said dryly. “So does nudity bother you, Ellen? Is it okay if I call you Ellen? Given how close we’ll be working together, first names seem more natural.”

“Of course, please do.”

“And nudity?” He arched an eyebrow. “You are comfortable with nudity, right? You’ve been married. You’ve hung around art students, and you applied to this program.”

“My undergraduate college didn’t allow nude modeling.” She didn’t blink. “I had hoped to expand my knowledge of landscape photography or taking action pictures of children.”

“I see. You’re avoiding my question, but that’s okay. In case you’re wondering, I didn’t select you as my teaching assistant. You were the only person available when I returned from a conference. So if you want to blame someone for your misfortune, blame my colleagues. This is sort of like going on a blind date.” He paused. “I’ve only been on one. I didn’t like it.”

Ellen’s laughter came quick and a little harsh. “At least we can agree on that.” She swallowed. “So I guess it’s safe to assume that you don’t do weddings, family portraits and such.”

He shook his head. He’d love to have a window into the strawberry blonde’s brain as she appeared to check off her options. She didn’t have many, and he knew it. She could go back to South Dakota, but he’d already witnessed her grit. Ellen Jeffers wouldn’t run if she could manage at all.

She smacked her lips. “I haven’t spent much time around nudity”—she gave him a wry smile—”and much of that was in the dark. It may take me a while, but I’m sure I’ll be comfortable enough.”

GIVEAWAY!

a Rafflecopter giveaway


 

Release blitz organized by Writer Marketing Services.

My right, privilege and duty #MFRWauthor

Voting BoothI couldn’t wait to vote! It was something to aspire to, like getting my driver’s license or going away to school. So the very first election after turning 21 I voted, by golly, and I haven’t missed a presidential election yet. I admit that I don’t always vote in local elections, and that’s because as adults, Jack and I moved so much I never got involved enough to find out who was running and what they stood for. But even when we were on the road trucking—through two presidential elections—we made sure to vote absentee.

So why do I feel so strongly about presidential, gubernatorial, state, and congressional elections? Those people make laws that affect all of us. When we were driving, they made laws that affected transportation, like making a national speed limit. When we were contracting, they determined tax law. Even now, they decide changes in withholding, social security and whether or not we have to wear masks when outdoors. If we don’t vote, we shouldn’t complain about the government’s doings.

Our forefathers have proven over and over how brilliant they were whenVote forming the U.S. government. The electoral college makes sure that states like where I live have a say in who becomes president, just like the big states. If not for it, the states with high populations would always determine our president. They decided on a representative form of government. And then they left it up to the people to elect their representatives. It’s our responsibility to do so or the system falls apart.

What do you think?

Read the next blog in the blog hop by going here.

Dee

Burning Bridges by Anne Krist: old letters put the lie to Sara’s life. Now, mending her past mistakes while crossing burning bridges will be the hardest thing she’s ever done.

One Woman Only
Only a Good Man Will Do
Naval Maneuvers

To vote or not to vote?—Jan Selbourne #MFRWauthor

Parliament House, Canberra, Australia

Without mentioning politics do you vote? Why or why not?

I have voted in every federal and state election since I was eighteen.
Why? Because I am damned lucky to live in a country where I can vote. Australia is a parliamentary democracy, meaning the people choose representatives at regular elections.

It is also compulsory. All Australian citizens over the age of 18 (except those of unsound mind or convicted of serious crimes) must be registered to vote and show up at the poll on election day.

The main reason for compulsory voting was our laid back ‘she’ll be right, mate’ attitudes. After Federation in 1901, the forging of the new Commonwealth was ‘a bit troubled’. The 5 million people spread around this large continent weren’t interested in voting. The new parliament was concerned and the impetus from both major parties to introduce compulsory voting was the stark decline in voter turnout. From 71% of registered voters attending the polls in 1919 to just 59% in 1922. The worried politicians agreed something had to be done before they were out of a job!

In 1924 compulsory voting became law and the impact was immediate. Voter numbers at the 1925 election rose to 91%. I bet there were sighs of relief within the hallowed halls of government.

Elections are held on Saturdays. Absent voters can vote in any state polling place or apply for a postal vote. Mobile polling facilities are set up in some hospitals, nursing homes, prisons and remote areas.

Of course, there are arguments for and against.

The For team –

It’s a civic duty comparable to jury duty, taxation, compulsory education. Parliament reflects more accurately the will of the people. The voter is only compelled to show up at a polling place, the actual voting is by secret ballot.

The Against team –

Infringement of liberty. The politically ignorant’ and those with little interest in the polls forced to attend. It may increase the number of ‘donkey votes.’

I personally feel giving up half an hour of my time once every three years is a small price to pay for a democratically elected government.

And, if you don’t want to vote, don’t complain later.

What do you think?

Read the next blog in the blog hop by going here.

Jan Selbourne

The Woman Behind the Mirror
The Proposition
Lies of Gold—Silver Historical for 2019: Coffee Pot Book Club

Second chance at love’s brass ring! Secret Desires by J.L. Regen

Secret Desires by J.L. Regen

BLURB:
Nothing in Margo Simmons’s life comes easy. She can’t claim the inheritance on a condo apartment her uncle has left to her until she is gainfully employed in a job for a year. She meets the man of her dreams but anguishes over a loving relationship because he is still emotionally tied to his deceased wife. With great difficulty, she becomes the guardian to a recently orphaned child she had been tutoring. Margo evolves from an insecure, newbie elementary teacher into a woman determined to fulfill the secret desires locked in her heart. My story speaks to anyone who has suffered a loss and had to start over.

Buy links:
Amazon
Barnes & Noble

Excerpt:
Margo Simmons gripped the edges of the leather chair, waiting for details from the family lawyer about her Uncle Harry’s death. She hoped it would be shorter and less painful than the reading of her father’s will.

An older gentleman extended his hand. “I’m sorry your mother couldn’t be here.”

Margo looked up from her reflections to acknowledge him. “Thanks, Mr. Steinberg.”

“You’ve grown into a lovely young woman.”

Margo blinked back tears at memories of good times shared with Uncle Harry. “Not so young. I’m twenty-three.”

The portly man squeezed himself into a swivel chair and peered at her over wire-rimmed bifocals. “I’m ancient compared to that number.”

Margo gripped her knees to steady her nerves. “My mother wanted to come with me, but they’re downsizing at her dress shop. She was afraid to leave early. My stepfather is furious because Uncle Harry didn’t leave him any money.”

Mr. Steinberg saddened at the sorrowful expression on the young woman’s face. “It pains  me to hear Jerry hasn’t changed his ways. However, since you’re the only one present to hear your uncle’s will, I’ll get to the point. Harry has left you his Riverside Drive condominium apartment and the sum of two hundred and fifty thousand dollars.”

Margo jumped up from the chair and hugged the man. “This is a miracle. I can’t wait to tell my Mom. She’s wanted me to get out on my own. Now I can. Though I wish it hadn’t come with the loss of my uncle. I adored him.”

The attorney pushed bifocals up his fleshy nose. “I know you did, my dear. He spoke of you often, with fondness. As to your inheritance, in today’s market two hundred and fifty thousand dollars won’t last long unless invested wisely.”

The only thing Margo knew about investments was she didn’t have enough money to make any.

“Mr. Steinberg, can you refer me to someone who can advise me so I make wise investments?”

He raised his hand. “Not so fast my dear. Your uncle stipulated that you be gainfully employed for a year before you can claim your inheritance. The last time your mother and I spoke, you were studying to be a French teacher.”

Margo stared at the vibrant red dragon design on an Oriental rug and thought of the threadbare one under her rickety dining room table. Her eyes darted from the lawyer’s monogrammed attaché case to her worn shoulder strap bag.

She swallowed a lump of pride. “I’ve been looking for a teaching job for two years, but I’m on the substitute list and have a part-time job at a dry cleaner so I’m employed. I know it’s not a professional job, but it’s respectable work. ”

Mr. Steinberg made notes in her uncle’s folder. “I’m afraid that won’t do, my dear. Harry loved you but was very clear on the type of employment.”

A tear rolled down Margo’s cheek. “I don’t know how much longer I can live at home. Mama is working twice as hard since Jerry was laid off from his job at the newspaper. He couldn’t get the hang of technology. He’s been on disability from an old back injury. Could I speak to an investment counsellor to get an idea of what to do with my inheritance? It would give me something to strive for.”

Margo sat on her hands as she waited for the lawyer’s response. Since childhood, all she wanted was to be part of a happy family and not have money worries. Instead of granting her wishes, life had brought her a mean stepfather. Jerry fractured a childhood that had been filled with love when her birth father was alive.

Mr. Steinberg lifted a business card from a sterling silver box. “I highly recommend Edward Master. He’s with the investment banking firm of Chartwell, Morgan, and Master. He’ll give you solid advice. Shall I see if he’s available now?”

Meet J.L. Regen:
NA: How did you come up with the idea for your book?
JLR: It is based on someone I dated. I built a story around it.

NA: What sort of research did you do to write this book?
JLR: I read lots of books on second chances and spoke to counselors who specialized in the subject.

NA: What is the main thing you want readers to take away from your book?
JLR: Love is wonderful the second time around so don’t be afraid to take the plunge.

NA: Do you have a day job? What was your job before you started writing full time?
JLR: Teaching ESL elementary students

NA: What started you on the path to writing?
JLR: I’ve been writing since I’m nine. A wonderful teacher in the fifth grade inspired me to reach for the stars with my writing.

NA: What do your friends and family think about your being a writer?
JLR: My husband and friends think I should have started writing sooner, but I had to carve out a career in the corporate world.

NA: Do you outline books ahead of time or are you more of a by-the-seat-of-your-pants writer?
JLR: I make very long outlines. I need to know where I’m going with my book.

NA: What has been one of your most rewarding experiences as an author?
JLR: One of my most rewarding experiences as an author is reading my children’s book to my students and getting their reactions.

NA: Which kind of scenes are the hardest for you to write? Action, dialogue, sex?
JLR: The hardest scenes for me to write are the parts where the protagonist is emotionally hurt. I hate to see even my characters suffer.

NA: What do you like to do when you’re not writing?
JLR: When I’m not writing, I love to do photography, yoga, and ballet. Travel overseas is a passion.

NA: First thought when the alarm goes off in the in the morning?
JLR: When the alarm goes off, I think about where I left off in my current novel and how I will get to the next chapter –The next one will be a suspense.

NA: What famous person would you like to have dinner with?
JLR: I’d love to have dinner with my hero: Eleanor Roosevelt.

NA: Strangest place you’ve brushed your teeth?
JLR: Strangest place I’ve brushed my teeth: On safari in South Africa

NA: What are you working on now?
JLR: I’ve finished two suspense novels, one set in WWII and other a psychological twister. I’m in editing mode.

J.L.Regen:
J.L. RegenJ.L. Regen’s book, Secret Desires, was inspired by a real life story of lovers who join hearts against many odds. J.L. lives in the New York metropolitan area, is a published photojournalist, has short suspense stories online, and has taught English as a Second Language to students around the globe. This is her first contemporary romance. She has also published three nonfiction books and is crafting a historical suspense set in World War II.

 

New release! Brogan Corkie is back! Don’t Unravel the Past by Linda O’Connor

I’m excited to share the release of Don’t Unravel the Past, the third book in the Dr. Brogan Corkie Matchmaking Doctor series.

Don't Unravel the Past by Linda O'Connor

Dr. Brogan Corkie is happily semi-retired from medicine and now has time for other hobbies. Her passion for food is second only to her skill at matchmaking!

Years ago, Dr. Jay Landon kissed a sexy stranger with violet eyes. He was instantly enamoured – until he saw the engagement ring on her finger and the angry-looking dude by her side. She walked away with a piece of his heart.

Dr. Brenna Locket is in Mapleton for a conference and plans to stay for a six-month sabbatical to write a book. Her colourful past has prepared her well for a job she loves as an obstetrician-gynecologist with a special focus on sexual health. If her vivacious personality, natural empathy, and expert knowledge didn’t set her apart, her violet eyes and curly black hair certainly would.

Brogan doesn’t know their history, but the spark between Jay and Brenna is undeniable. She’s intrigued…and a matchmaking scheme is hatched. Now, if only Brenna could leave her past behind. Because unravelling the past might just derail the future.

Buy link: https://www.amazon.com/Unravel-Brogan-Corkie-Matchmaking-Doctor-ebook/dp/B08C8MHGYL

Don't Unravel the Past by Linda O'Connor

Excerpt:

When the doorbell rang, Brogan Corkie tossed more flour on the counter and called out in her most harried voice. “Brenna, I hate to bother you, but would you mind getting that? I’m up to my ears in flour.” She crossed her fingers at the little white lie.

The desk chair scraped back. “I don’t mind at all, Brogan.”

Brenna tugged on her T-shirt and ran a hand through her hair to subdue some of the wayward curls before opening the door. She stilled and her smile froze in place. Her recollection was swift – steel blue eyes glinting behind a goalie mask, a stolen moment, a fleeting kiss. He hadn’t changed much in seven years, although his eyes seemed bluer and his shoulders broader. He certainly hadn’t lost that cocky smile.

Jay stiffened and then his smile slowly widened. “Well, if it isn’t Doctor Sniper/Cheater.”

“It was a good goal, Doctor Sore Loser. I couldn’t help it if I was more talented than you.” Brenna leaned against the door frame. “It’s been a while.”

“Indeed it has.” But he’d recognize those violet eyes and curly hair anywhere. If truth be told, he was a complete sucker for them. They’d haunted his dreams since the moment he’d met her, even if she had just scored the winning goal. She’d robbed his hockey team of a spot in the final and stolen his heart in one fell swoop.

Hello, Linda!

Do you write full time? Do you have another job/other responsibilities?
I balance writing with working at an Urgent Care Clinic. I’ve been a physician longer than I’ve been a writer. In fact, when I was in medical school, I handed in a paper for an ethics course, and the professor who graded it commented, “You do not have a command of the English language.” Fourteen published novels later, I hope he’s wrong. Haha

What attracted you to the romance genre?
I read to escape and love that romances have happily-ever-after endings. Because I’ve read a lot, I know what romance readers expect in a story, so it made it easy for me to write in that genre. I also appreciate that you can query publishers directly when you write romance (i.e. you don’t necessarily have to have an agent), it has a large market with a group of voracious readers (great for sales), and there are a wide range of sub-genres in romance so you can write anything from historical to suspense to romantic comedy (my personal fav).

Why did you write this book? What was your inspiration?
This is the third book of the Dr. Brogan Matchmaking Doctor series. All the books in the series are stand-alone stories, but Brogan Corkie’s own romance arcs throughout the series, so it is preferable to read them in order. I love writing stories when the hero or heroine has a secret and revealing the secret adds a twist in the tale. In Don’t Unravel the Past, the heroine, Dr. Brenna Locket, has a secret about… you guessed it…her past. She has to share it with the hero, Dr. Jay Landon, before they can move forward in their relationship. This secret was inspired by one of the resident doctors I worked with during my internship. I think she had the same secret!

Read about the first two books:
Don’t Drop the Baby
Don’t Forget the Dog

Bio:
Author Linda O'ConnorAward-winning author Linda O’Connor started writing romantic comedies when she needed a creative outlet other than subtly rearranging the displays at a local home décor store. Her books have enjoyed bestseller status. When not writing, she’s a physician at an Urgent Care Clinic. She shares her medical knowledge in fast-paced, well-written, sexy romances – with an unexpected twist. Her favourite prescription to write? Laugh every day. Love every minute.

Website https://www.lindaoconnor.net
Twitter https://twitter.com/LindaOConnor98
Facebook https://www.facebook.com/LindaOConnorAuthor
Amazon Author Page https://www.amazon.com/Linda-OConnor/e/B00S7CNLEA

Out Now! SUMMER LIGHTNING by Saskia Walker

Summer Lightning by Saskia WalkerSUMMER LIGHTNING–An extra steamy beach story
for your summer reading!

BLURB:
A steamy, heart-warming summer romance…

Molly Delavine thinks she’s in heaven spending an idyllic summer getaway on a secluded cove on the English coast, and when she spots a gorgeous Adonis walking naked on the beach, she knows she is. But what is this gorgeous guy doing on her private beach?

Coastal Ranger Julian Keswick is on conservation duty when he finds a woman shacked up in his favorite cove. He’s fuming, and confronts her, but his natural instinct to protect comes to the forefront during an incoming storm.

As the wild summer storm brings these two opposites together, the natural elements take charge of their mutual destinies. But Molly has to return to her business world in London, and her wild holiday romance with a ranger is soon to become a memory. Opposites attract, but for two people so very different, is destiny one week, or forever?

BUY LINKS:
Kobo: http://tinyurl.com/ybhnm9uw
Apple: http://tinyurl.com/y9c5tj42
Nook: http://tinyurl.com/y6wenh3h
Kindle: http://tinyurl.com/y6uptfzl
Kindle UK: http://tinyurl.com/y8nywwuz

And in print from Amazon worldwide

EXCERPT:

Molly hadn’t seen another soul on the beach during the whole time she’d been there. The cottage had been advertised as having a private beach, and –so far—that’s exactly what it had been. Who the hell was he?

Annoyed, she reached for her T-shirt and held it against her boobs, still lying close against the ground. The clumps of beach grass lining the top of the dunes gave her cover, but she wanted her T-shirt to hand in case she needed it.

It really was a man, and he seemed to be alone.

A very attractive man.

He was tall and well built, with closely shorn hair, left longer on top. He wore loud shorts and a threadbare, faded T-shirt. He had the look of a beachcomber, but this was England and the only beachcombers Molly had ever seen were on TV, on Australian soap operas. His legs were corded with strong muscles, and she eyed them as an artist, and more, as a woman—a woman subconsciously hungry for such a sight.

Perhaps she’d been away from people too long. A few trips to the local village for supplies obviously wasn’t enough to keep her in touch with the real world.

Torn between the urge to march over there and ask what the bloody hell he was doing on her beach, and the equally compelling urge to continue secretly observing him, she tried to figure out what to do.

Glued to the spot, the desire to continue observing took the lead.

As the moments passed she noticed again how supremely well built and attractive he was. She smiled to herself, watching as he kicked off his sports shoes and walked barefoot toward the edge of the shore.

As she watched, he walked into the water and dipped a long plastic tube into the surf. He lifted it and looked at it in the light, then sealed it with a plastic cap. She wondered what he was doing. He walked back to where he’d left his shoes and deposited the tube.

She could hardly drag her attention away, but it was her beach, it said so in the advert. Private, secluded beach, the perfect getaway. So what was he doing here? Who did he think he was? She had to remind herself she was from a city and things were different here. Along the wild coast in Northumberland roaming beachcomber types might be the norm. She was enjoying the privacy of the place though, and felt provoked to defend it.

Then he began to strip off.

Molly’s eyebrows lifted, astonished as she was by his actions.

He pulled his T-shirt over his head, giving her a look at his perfectly shaped torso as he did so.

“Wow,” she whispered approvingly.

If she was looking for inspiration, she’d surely found it today. He was a handsome specimen all right, gorgeous looking, and with a very impressive physique. The guy worked out, that much was obvious. He had amazing, powerful shoulders and a six-pack to match. He stood on the edge of the surf as if he owned it—it was as if Neptune himself had just walked out of the waves.

Molly’s eyebrows shot up when she realized he wasn’t stopping at the T-shirt.

He was busy undoing the tie at his waistband and was about to drop his shorts.

She glanced around, half expecting to see somebody else running over to accompany him. But, no, he appeared to be alone. And she was trapped there, clutching her T-shirt to her chest as she observed him, unseen…

AUTHOR BIO:

Saskia walker is a British author of erotic romance, an award winning writer and a USA Today bestseller. Saskia’s short stories and novellas have appeared in over one hundred international anthologies and magazines including COSMO, PENTHOUSE and BUST.

After writing shorts for several years Saskia moved into novel-length projects. Fascinated with seduction, Saskia loves to explore how and why we get from saying “hello” to sharing our most intimate selves in moments of extreme passion. Her novels DOUBLE DARE and RAMPANT both won Passionate Plume awards and her writing has twice been nominated for a Romantic Times Magazine Reviewers’ Choice Award. She has lots more stories in the pipeline! Saskia lives in the north of England, close to the beautiful Yorkshire moors, with her partner, Mark, and a houseful of felines. Visit her website for more info: www.saskiawalker.com

SOCIAL LINKS:
www.saskiawalker.com
Twitter: @saskiawalker
email@ saskiawalker@gmail.com
newsletter: http://www.saskiawalker.co.uk/newslettersubscription.html
Good Reads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/104558.Saskia_Walker

EARLIER REVIEWS OF SUMMER LIGHTNING

“a highly entertaining and delightfully steamy tale of a lusty holiday romance… opposites can attract and electrically so! 5 Angels and a Recommended Read! Fallen Angel Reviews.

“SUMMER LIGHTNING is an excellent book that takes readers away to their own deserted island. The love scenes are sensual, passionate and readers will find themselves glued to the pages. SUMMER LIGHTNING is the first story that I have read by Saskia Walker, but I can definitely say that I will be on the lookout for more of her work in the future.” 4.5 blue ribbon rating. Angel, Romance Junkies.

“I really recommend this book if you like steamy scenes and romance thrown into the mix. I can’t wait for the next one.” Fresh Fiction.

“a heat rating out the charts.” 4.5 star rating. Fantastic keeper. A top pick at Romantic Times Magazine.

Writers Services--Lucy FelthouseRelease blitz organised by Writer Marketing Services.