Aussie Becomes Yank!

Jan and I host a newsletter we call Aussie to Yank, but in this case of welcoming a new American citizen, we adapted the title a bit. You’ll see why below.

Aussie flagA few years ago, my daughter Jeanette hit a couple of brick walls in her life and decided to take a break and travel to the USA. She wasn’t to know that meeting and falling in love with an American named Joe would be the beginning of a complete sea change for her. With that sea change came obstacles – a huge ocean separated Australia and America and her three months tourist visa demanded she return home. After a lot of soul searching, she decided to pick up sticks and stay in the U.S. with Joe.American flag

Leaving Australia for a new life in another country was a big, daunting step. Oftentimes she was very homesick. It wasn’t as though she could fly home for the weekend! Jeanette didn’t know anyone except Joe, but her fears (and most of her homesickness) were quickly dispelled when his family and friends welcomed her with open arms.

There was a lot of adjusting to do–

Coming from a country that has as many sheep as people she missed the mouth-watering roast leg of lamb with thick pan gravy. No hot meat pies with tomato sauce (ketchup), a must on cold days. No fish and chip shops with battered fish and chips cooked in hot oil, lashings of salt and wrapped in paper. Jeanette’s initial reaction to biscuits and gravy was ‘ugh’ until she learned American biscuits are similar to our scones. Eating out was confusing and remembering to tip even harder.

Learning to drive on the right-hand side of the road took time, remembering to open the left-hand door instead of the right took longer, however her driving test was surprisingly easy. In Jeanette’s words, “The guy had me drive around while he asked questions on koalas and kangaroos.”

Americans were very interested in our wildlife, especially the poisonous snakes and spiders. Breezily declaring she’d killed dozens of spiders with her thongs was met with an uncomfortable silence. (Oops! She didn’t know she meant flip flops.)

In Jeanette’s words again, “Everyone I’ve met has said they’ve always wanted to go to Australia, and they all think our spiders are BIG. I suppose they are but our shoes and thongs, I mean flip flops, are bigger.”

Because she lived in Queensland, (1.7 million sq. kilometres in size) it was assumed she knew Steve Irwin, ‘the crocodile hunter.’ After the fourth or fifth query, she maintained a very straight face while replying that yes, she’d gone to school with him. [LOL!!]

Jeanette was teased mercilessly over her accent and our habit of abbreviating words such as arvo for afternoon, Salvos – Salvation Army, brekky – breakfast, barbie – barbecue, snag – sausage, coldie – stubby of beer, garbo – garbage collector, and ambos for ambulance crews. Her love of Vegemite was met with looks of disgust and ‘how can you eat that stuff?’ Surprisingly, Joe loves it.

Settling into American life was made easier by the wonderful friendship and support from Joe’s family and friends, but Jeanette needed to get Jeanette's citizenshipserious about living there permanently. To obtain a conditional green card, she had to be married to Joe for one year, have a co-sponsor and not break the law. After that she could apply to have the conditions removed to become a permanent legal resident. And then, she faced another three years before she was eligible to apply for citizenship. Last year the process began, and in April 2019 she travelled to Detroit for the test on American history and government. She passed all the hurdles and finally, the citizenship ceremony was held on 20 June.

I’ve been asked a few times how I feel. I miss her horribly and though I’ve travelled to the U.S. for visits, the trip is not to be taken lightly. As far as I’mThe Aussie is in residence! concerned, Jeanette is Aussie born and bred and now America is her home. Becoming a citizen was absolutely the right thing to do. Each time I visit, her American family and friends make me very welcome. And, the nicest compliment of all, my son-in-law Joe hoists the Aussie flag up on the flagpole. I feel very much at home there.

Congratulations, Jeanette!! What a huge undertaking. I have a feeling you’re more knowledgeable about the U.S. than a lot of us born here. Welcome to being a U.S. citizen!

Welcome to the WATCH “RWISA” WRITE Showcase Tour! #RRBC #RWISA

RWISA Showcase

The Road by John W. Howell © 2019

Just a couple more hours and I’ll be able to rest my eyes. Been on this damn highway for what seems like forever. His head slowly nods until the rumble strip noise causes him to jerk awake. “I have been asleep,” he yells. He yanks the wheel, and the tires screech in protest as he swerves back on to the highway. He can feel his heart in his chest and pressure in his eyes. In an instant, he regrets being so weak as to give in to the physical need. He also becomes alarmed since now he knows that sleep could overtake him without notice.  One second, his eyes could be open and the next closed. Thank God for the jarring and noise of the rumble strips since without its alarm, he is sure he would have ended up piled into a tree.

As his heart settles down, he concentrates on the road ahead. There’s someone at the side about a half mile away. A hitchhiker by the looks of a backpack. A sign in the person’s hand is not readable at this distance. The thought occurs that It would be a good thing to have someone else in the car to help him stay awake.  Of course, there are dangers in picking up a stranger. As he gets closer, he can see that the hitchhiker is not a guy like he thought. It’s a young woman about his age.  She is wearing some kind of overalls, but the distinctive female form still comes through. He decides to slow down and assess the situation. A girl makes all the difference in trying to reach a decision for or against a pickup. After all, who knows where this could lead? He does know that in all probability, she is not likely to stick a knife in his ribs and demand his wallet after a couple of miles down the road.

He eases the car to the shoulder and can’t help kick up some dust in the process. The sign is facing him even as the person turns away to avoid the dust storm he has created. Kansas City in black marker on cardboard is all it says.

He opens the passenger door and waves her over. “I’m going to Kansas City. Want a ride?”

The young woman looks back at him, and he can tell she is doing an evaluation on the safety prospects of accepting a lift. She slowly hoists her backpack on to her shoulder and walks with hesitant steps toward the car. She puts her hand above her eyes to cut the glare of the sun and stops short of the door. She leans in. “Did you say you’re going to Kansas City?”

“Yes. Yes, I did. I also asked if you would like a ride.”

“That all depends on your intentions?”

“My intentions?”

“Yeah. You are offering a ride. How much will it cost me?”

“Cost you? I’m going to Kansas City. Your sign says Kansas City. Why would it cost you anything?”

“Just want to make sure is all.”

“No charge. I’ve been on the road forever, it seems, and I would welcome the company. My name is James.”

“Sorry, James. I know I sounded a little ungrateful, but I have also been on the road and have met several guys that think I owe them something for a ride.”

“I can understand that. Let’s just say you can ride or not it’s your choice. No other decisions to be made.”

“Fair enough. I accept your offer. My name is Sarah.” She slides in and slams the door.

“Nice to meet you, Sarah. You want to put your backpack in the rear?”

“No, I’ll just keep it here in the front with me. You can never tell.”

“Tell what?”

“When I’ll have to bail. Everything I own is in this pack, and I sure wouldn’t want to leave it behind.”

“I get it. No use trusting someone just cause they say you can.”

“Right. I think I like you, James.”

“Wainwright. My last name’s Wainwright. How about you?”

“Not sure I have a last name. I go by Sarah.”

“No last name? How can that be?”

“You going to start this car or is my fear well founded.”

James flushes as he turns the ignition. “Yeah, here we go.” He looks in the side mirror and signals as he pulls back on the highway.

“You are a cautious one. There’s no one for miles.”

“I guess it’s a habit from city driving.” He keeps checking in the mirror until he is up to highway speed

“Where you from, James?”

“New York. You?”

“I think I was originally from down south somewhere.”

“You don’t know?”

“Well, it’s been a long time.” She pauses.

James glances at her and sees that she is lost in thought somewhere. Her skin is fair, and she has the high cheekbones and lips of a runway model. She looks vaguely familiar, and he compares her looks to Joni Mitchell. There is that innocent, fragile look that makes you want to take care of her.

“I’m sorry. What did you say?” She is back.

“I didn’t say anything. I’m amazed you don’t know where you are from.”

“Well do you remember where you’re from or is it someone told you?”

She has a point. James only knew he was born in Chicago because his parents told him so. He lived in New York for twenty years so unless clued in he would have thought he lived there his whole life. “I guess I should rephrase the question. Where did you last live?”

“Yes, James. That makes a little more sense. I last lived in Dubuque, Iowa.”

“What a coincidence. I am driving from Dubuque. Do you believe that?”

“I can believe that. Someone once said there are only six degrees of separation of everyone on Earth. You and I traveling from Dubuque at the same time certainly falls into that realm.”

“Aw come on, Sarah. We are both going from Dubuque to Kansas City. That has to be more than a coincidence.”

“I never said I was going to Kansas City, James.”

“Wait. You have that sign that says Kansas City.”

“Doesn’t mean I’m going there.”

“What does it mean?”

“You think I know?”

“I’m getting a weird feeling here, Sarah. Like you aren’t telling me something.”

“Do you remember swerving after you ran off the highway?”

“What? Back there. Yeah, I remember almost falling asleep. Hey, wait a minute. How would you know about that?”

“Think a minute, James. How do you think I would know about that moment?”

“Sarah I’m too tired for guessing games. What is this all about?”

“Do you feel okay, James?”

“Yeah, just tired.”

“Look around. Do you see any other cars?”

“No, but I haven’t for a while. What are you trying to tell me, Sarah?”

“You fell asleep James.”

“When did I fall asleep? I know I nodded off, but when did I fall asleep?”

“Just before your car went off the road and you hit a cement culvert.”

“Now, you are joking. Right? Right, Sarah?”

“No joke, James. Look ahead. What do you see?”

“Uh up the road, you mean?”

“Yes, up the road.”

“Nothing but what looks like a sandstorm.”

“It’s no storm, James. It is nothing.”

“Who are you anyway?”

“Do you remember that little girl who went missing in the second grade?”

“Yeah, what does that have to do with you?”

“Does the nickname Jimmy Jeans mean anything?”

“That’s what Sarah called me in the second grade.”

“How did I know that?”

“You wouldn’t unless.”

“Unless I’m Sarah.”

“Oh My God. Sarah. It is you. Where have you been?”

“That’s not important. What is important is you were broken hearted when I vanished. You prayed for my return and made promises to God if only I would come back.”

“I never got over that either. I think of that little gir¾. I mean, I thought of you almost every day. Why didn’t I recognize you?”

“Cause I’m all grown up. There would be no way.”

“Where have you been Sarah. I have missed you so much.”

“Don’t cry, James. I’m here with you now.”

“Can you tell me what happened to you?”

“No, James, it’s not worth the time.”

“So why now? Why are you here now?”

“To help you, James.”

“To help me. How?”

“To understand what your life is like now.”

“Now? What do you mean?”

“You were in an accident, James. You ran off the road, and I am sorry to say your body didn’t survive. You are now going with me on an eternal trip.”

“You are saying I’m dead. I can’t believe that.  Look at me. I’m just as alive as you.”

“That’s right. You are.”

“Um, Sarah?”

“Yes, James.”

“You are dead too?”

“Yes, James. A man took me from school and killed me. They never found my body.”

“W-what?”

“Don’t think about that now. Think about the future. Because you prayed so hard and missed me so much, I was given the honor of escorting you to the other side.”

“Other side? There’s a Future?”

“A wonderful one.  You and I for all time.”

“I would like that.”

“Take my hand then. Let’s be off.”

“I have more questions.”

“All in good time, James. All in good time.”

Thank you for supporting this member along the WATCH “RWISA” WRITE Showcase Tour today!  We ask that if you have enjoyed this member’s writing, please visit their Author Page on the RWISA site, where you can find more of their writing, along with their contact and social media links, if they’ve turned you into a fan.

We ask that you also check out their books in the RWISA or RRBC catalogs.  Thanks, again for your support and we hope that you will follow each member along this amazing tour of talent!  Don’t forget to click the link below to learn more about this author:

John W. Howell’s RWISA Author Page

A Memorial Day thank you

I went through high school and into college during Vietnam. We saw the graphic pictures every night on Vietnam Memorialthe news, heard the promises made by politicians, and the reporting on offenses by the media. It wasn’t a pretty picture. My Air Force uncle went for a year. My Navy dad continued to hear rumors that his ship would be sent. I had friends who were drafted, a catechism teacher who became a POW (a great man, Jeremiah Denton), and my own sweetie’s draft lottery number was in the 60s, had he not stayed in school.

Some people say that nothing good comes of war. I disagree. SometimesAmerican Cemetery, Normandy war is a necessity and sacrifices are inevitable. Where would we be without the soldiers of the Revolution? What if no one had decided to enlist after Pearl Harbor? Where would the world be had America and other nations not stood shoulder to shoulder against tyranny? We’re damn lucky we have Folded flagmen and women of character who are willing to leave their families and fight for freedom and country. We honor those who died for us on Memorial Day.

It’s easy to concentrate only on the dying part of the day and not on the celebration of life. I watched a program this morning called “Modern Warriors.” The men in the show made a suggestion. They said we shouldn’t make Memorial Day depressing. They suggested that we choose someone who died duringRemembering war and throw that person a party to honor them. They said go to our barbecues, have a few drinks, be with our families, but take a moment to say thank you.

I like that idea a lot!

Dee

Those darned allergies #MFRWauthor

This is going to be one short post. I don’t suffer from allergies. At one time I indicated an allergy to mold, cats, and dogs, but that’s been 50 years ago. I Allergiestook shots for it. Once hubby and I started driving truck and roaming all over the U.S., I lost my allergies. Hubby, on the other hand, is allergic to the world of the American South-Southeast.

When we moved home to Virginia after living in San Francisco, he was horribly sick for weeks. He lost his voice, his eyes leaked, his nose ran, and his throat was raw. Even after all of that cleared up, he was miserable. Now mind you, we lived right in the civic center area of San Francisco, on a major thoroughfare with heavy traffic and buses, etc. Soot and cinders found there way into any open window. There, he was fine. But put himVirginia spring anywhere near Virginia pollen, plants and trees, and he about dies. This is the reason we retired in the Northwest and not in the home of my heart, the Southeast.

So how does hubby deal with his allergies? Well, he takes OTC medications once a day and for his nose and sinuses he uses one of those saltwater pot thingys. When the pollen hits here or grass is being cut, he stays inside as much as possible. And he gives in to my pampering. Well, as much pampering as I do. Other than that (or taking allergy shots) is there any other way to deal with the seasonal Mother Nature?

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

Dee
Only a Good Man Will Do: Seriously ambitious man seeks woman to encourage his goals, support his (hopeful) position as Headmaster of Westover Academy, and be purer than Caesar’s wife. Good luck with that!

Naval Maneuvers: When a woman requires an earth-shattering crush of pleasure to carry her away, she can’t do better than to call on the US Navy. Sorry, Marines!

Cult: Seelie Kay

Cult by Seelie Kay

Cult
Release Date: May 17, 2019
Publisher: Extasy Books
Genre: Romantic Suspense, three flames

An Interview with Seelie Kay:

Q. Why do you write romance?

Because I am fascinated by the games people play to find and secure a lasting relationship, which is not always love. There’s the chase, the courtship, the falling, the surrender. That’s what I try to capture in my stories.

Q. Do you prefer a certain type of romantic hero?

I adore smart, dashing gentlemen who aren’t afraid to live on the edge. They can be a bad boy, a billionaire, a prince, or a secret agent. That hint of danger just hooks me! However, I also love strong, independent women who aren’t afraid to fight for what they want, even love.

Q. Why did you write “Cult?”

For two reasons. First, I have done extensive research on a religious cult a family member was involved in many years ago. There is specific type of personality that succeeds as a cult leader. They offer something others aren’t finding in their real life or through mainstream religion. Their grip on others is daunting. In many instances, however, a cult leader is nothing more than a con man with a great sales pitch. I wanted to explore that. Second, when I was in college, I had friends who got involved in cults. They gave up all of their worldly goods and submitted blindly to one man. And once in, they couldn’t get out. Fortunately, some did finally escape, but they were forever changed.

As I was doing my research, I realized that many cults treat their members as slaves, a form of human trafficking. Their free will has been taken away. Someone else does their thinking for them. As long as they submit and obey, they receive the basics—food and shelter. However, the consequences of nonconformance can be dire–physical abuse, incarceration, even death. It was not a story I could ignore.

Q. How does your former profession as a lawyer impact your writing?

My friends say I am obsessed with justice and I guess that’s true. After 30 years, the law and the legal world are so firmly embedded in my brain that I can’t flush them out. That has become the lens through which I view the world and that naturally guides my characters and plots. Injustice infuriates me, but it also leads me to great stories!

Cult by Seelie Kay

Blurb:
It’s supposed to be a simple assignment. A quick trip to a South American country for an “in and out” fact-finding mission. Unfortunately, the cult has other ideas.

When college students begin disappearing from American campuses, a notorious cult, God’s Delight, is the primary suspect. God’s Delight has been hosting shows featuring sex, drugs, and rock and roll around the country, and young people are flocking to them.

Among the missing is the President’s goddaughter, and he wants answers. When he asks Agent Cade Matthews, a member of a secret covert organization, to find her, the mission appears fairly straightforward. Find the God’s Delight compound, determine whether a welfare check on American cult members is warranted, and get out. Simple. Clean. Easy.

Cade sends newly-married Agents Dianna Murphy and Anders Mark to the University of Wisconsin to follow the trail to God’s Delight, but when they wind up in Bolivia, things go sideways. Suddenly, what appeared to be nothing more than a simple in-and-out could cost Dianna her life. When an Agency extraction is ordered, chaos erupts, and the question becomes, will anyone survive?

Cult by Seelie Kay

Excerpt:
“But everyone can leave when they want, right?”

Tillie cocked her eyebrow, clearly amused. “Of course. But why would they? This is paradise.”

“It is indeed, darling Miranda,” drawled a deep sultry voice. A tall, well-built man dressed in a white cossack, a thick wooden cross draped around his neck, wrapped his arms around her and kissed her cheek. His loose, long blonde hair framed a tan, handsome face with a strong nose and a wicked, full-lipped grin. He turned his piercing blue eyes toward Dianna and smiled. “Hello,” he said.

The man studied her, his expression predatory.

Dianna shifted uncomfortably. So, Tillie is using another name. Meaning she’s undercover. Noted. Dianna stuck out her hand and said. “Hi, I’m Bennie. I’m one of the students from Wisconsin working over at the orphanage. You were kind enough to allow us to stay here.”

The man took her hand and stroked it, his expression suddenly thoughtful. “Tell me, Bennie from Wisconsin, what do you think of my paradise?” His hand moved to her lower arm.

Dianna flushed. My paradise? Is this Reverend John? “It’s beautiful. Peaceful. But hot. And humid. Really humid.” She gazed up into the man’s eyes, somewhat stunned at the lust she found there. My God, he looks like he wants to devour me. Dianna quickly looked away.

The man chuckled. “You get used to it. But we keep the air-conditioning on in the dormitories for the newbies and limit their time in the sun. And of course, we all take a siesta during the hottest part of the day if we need one.” He released her arm. “We worship at day’s end when the air begins to cool. Otherwise, things get a little…sweaty.” He leaned down and kissed her on the cheek, gently tugging her hair. Then he walked away. Dianna’s gaze did not leave him as children followed him, playfully competing for his attention. Just like Jesus.

Buy links:

Publisher: http://www.extasybooks.com/978-1-4874-2538-8-cult/
Coming soon to all other major booksellers!

Feisty Lawyers by Seelie Kay

About Seelie Kay:

Seelie Kay is a nom de plume for a writer, editor, and author with more than 30 years of experience in law, journalism, marketing, and public relations. When she writes about love and lust in the legal world, something kinky is bound to happen! In possession of a wicked pen and an overly inquisitive mind, Ms. Kay is the author of multiple works of fiction, including the Kinky Briefs series, the Feisty Lawyers series, The Garage Dweller, A Touchdown to Remember, The President’s Wife, and The President’s Daughter.

When not spinning her kinky tales, Ms. Kay ghostwrites nonfiction for lawyers and other professionals. She resides in a bucolic exurb outside Milwaukee, Wisconsin, where she shares a home with her son and enjoys opera, gourmet cooking, organic gardening, and an occasional bottle of red wine.

Ms. Kay is an MS warrior and ruthlessly battles the disease on a daily basis. Her message to those diagnosed with MS: Never give up. You define MS, it does not define you!

Author links:

www.seeliekay.com
www.seeliekay.blogspot.com
Twitter: @SeelieKay https://twitter.com/SeelieKay
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/seelie.kay.77
Amazon author page: https://www.amazon.com/Seelie-Kay/e/B074RDRWNZ/

Prior Books:

http://www.extasybooks.com/kinky-briefs/
http://www.extasybooks.com/kinky-briefs-too/
http://www.extasybooks.com/kinky-briefs-thrice/
http://www.extasybooks.com/978-1-4874-1734-5-kinky-briefs-quatro/
http://www.extasybooks.com/978-1-4874-2023-9-kinky-briefs-cinque/
http://www.extasybooks.com/the-garage-dweller/
http://www.extasybooks.com/978-1-4874-1504-4-a-touchdown-to-remember/
http://www.extasybooks.com/978-1-4874-1795-6-the-presidents-wife/
http://www.extasybooks.com/978-1-4874-2263-9-snatching-diana/
http://www.extasybooks.com/978-1-4874-2032-1-the-presidents-daughter
https://www.extasybooks.com/978-1-4874-2291-2-infamy/
https://www.extasybooks.com/978-1-4874-2349-0-seizing-hope/

Coming soon:

Hope (Part Four, Feisty Lawyers): TBD

Julia Kent’s new book, Fluffy!

Out Now—Fluffy by Julia Kent (@jkentauthor) #romance #romcom

Fluffy by Julia Kent

FLUFFY
Author: Julia Kent
Release date: April 30, 2019
Genre: Romantic Comedy, Contemporary Romance
Cover Designer: Hang Le
Editor: Elisa Reed
Audiobook narrator: Erin Mallon

Description:

An all-new STANDALONE from New York Times bestselling author Julia Kent

It all started with the wrong Help Wanted ad. Of course it did.

I’m a professional fluffer. It’s NOT what you think. I stage homes for a living. Real estate agents love me, and my work stands on its own merits.

Sigh. Get your mind out of the gutter. Go ahead. Laugh. I’ll wait.

See? That’s the problem. My career has used the term “fluffer” for decades. I didn’t even know there was a more… lascivious definition of the term.

Until it was too late.

The ad for a “professional fluffer” on Craigslist seemed like divine intervention. My last unemployment check was in the bank. I was desperate. Rent was due. The ad said cash paid at the end of the day.

The perfect job!

Staging homes means showing your best angle. The same principle applies in making a certain kind of movie. Turns out a “fluffer” doesn’t arrange decorative pillows on a couch.

They arrange other soft, round-ish objects.

The job isn’t hard. Er, I mean, it is — it’s about being hard. Or, well… helping other people to be hard.

Oh, man…

And that’s the other problem. A man. No, not one of the stars on the movie set. Will Lotham – my high school crush. The owner of the house where we’re filming. Illegally. In a vacation rental.

By the time the cops show up, what I thought was just a great house staging gig turned into a nightmare involving pictures of me with an undressed naked star, Will rescuing me from an arrest, and a humiliating lesson in my own naivete.

My job turned out to be so much harder than I expected. But you know what’s easier than I ever imagined?

Having all my dreams come true.

Buy links:

AmazonUS: http://mybook.to/fluffy
AmazonUK: http://smarturl.it/fluffyAMZuk
AmazonCA: http://smarturl.it/fluffyAMZca
AmazonAU: http://smarturl.it/fluffyAMZau
Nook/BN: http://bit.ly/2CGtnBE
Apple Books: https://apple.co/2RmE159
Kobo: http://bit.ly/2BjWvxL
Google Play: http://bit.ly/2COKLmQ
Audible: https://adbl.co/2KRgFGR
Print: http://mybook.to/fluffy
Goodreads: http://bit.ly/2TjDjqS
Bookbub: http://bit.ly/2ThoLrZ

Fluffy by Julia Kent

Excerpt:

“You’re changing the subject.”

“How do you know that’s what I’m doing?”

“Because you have this thing you do when you get nervous. You did it in high school and you’re doing it now.”

“What’s that?”

“You start cracking your knuckles. One by one.”

He halts mid-crack on his ring finger. His bare ring finger.

Will looks down. A slow smile pulls at his lips. “You’re right. I do.” Our eyes meet. “How did you know?”

“I sat behind you in nearly every honors class, Will. I’ve watched you answer countless questions from teachers. And every time you didn’t know the answer, you cracked your knuckles. One”–I crack my index finger–“by”–I crack my middle finger–“one.” My ring finger won’t snap.

He waits.

“You spent a lot of time paying attention to me, Mallory.”

“I sat behind you. It’s not like I could stare at your ass all day. I had to have something else to look at.”

“You stared at my ass?”

“It was two feet in front of me! Four classes a day!” I start to sweat. The memory of him in football uniform pants. Oh, sweet ice cream fairy, deliver me from evil.

“You okay? You look,” he says, stepping closer, “a little disturbed.”

“I’m fine.”

“Hot, even.” The rise and fall of his chest pauses after those words, as if he’s holding his breath, too.

Fluffy by Julia Kent

Author Bio:

New York Times and USA Today Bestselling Author Julia Kent writes romantic comedy with an edge. From billionaires to BBWs to new adult rock stars, Julia finds a sensual, goofy joy in every contemporary romance she writes. Unlike Shannon from Shopping for a Billionaire, she did not meet her husband after dropping her phone in a men’s room toilet (and he isn’t a billionaire). She lives in New England with her husband and three sons in a household where the toilet seat is never, ever, down

Social Media Links:

Website: http://jkentauthor.com/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/jkentauthor/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/jkentauthor
Newsletter: http://bit.ly/2PIBi9n
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/jkentauthor/
Bookbub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/julia-kent
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/3238619.Julia_Kent
Amazon Author Page: https://www.amazon.com/Julia-Kent/e/B00A99V268/

Fluffy and Writer Services

Release blitz organized by Writer Marketing Services.

APPing: For Better or Worse? #MFRWauthor

Apps, apps, and more appsAre you married to your APPs? If so, you might be wasting a good bit of time. I wouldn’t say I’m tied to my APPs—and I don’t have very many of them—but I do have an on-again-off-again love affair with a few of them.

  • Solitaire: This is my all time favorite time-wasting APP. I play Solitaire when I’m bored, when I’m watching/listening to my Investigate Discovery shows, when I’m doing the same to the news, or when hubby says he’ll be on the computer for a few minutes and I don’t want to pick up the Kindle. It’s a good all-around APP!
  • News APP: I check my favorite news APP at least twice a day.
  • Weather APP: I keep up with my weather, my mom’s, my in-laws’, and West Yellowstone. Why West Yellowstone? Just because.
  • Text: When needed.
  • Google Maps: If I’m watching something and a town is mentioned, I must know where that town is.
  • Google: I use this stupid APP all the time! Can’t tell you all the silly thing I look up. If an actress looks familiar, I have to know where else I’ve seen her. If someone mentions a constitutional amendment, I have to know what that amendment says. What did we do before Google? We spent more time at the library and less time looking up a thousand times a day.

Those are pretty much the only APPs I use. I wish I could delete the extra ones Apple puts on the phones that I will never use but I push them to the back screens. I would say that most of the APPS I listed above are time The ubiquitous Solitairewasters. I got along for the vast majority of my life without having weather, Google, Solitaire, etc. at my fingertips and led a very happy life. I think I could have gone the rest of my life without them. But since I do have them… Pardon me while I go play a game of Solitaire.

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

Dee
Only a Good Man Will Do: Seriously ambitious man seeks woman to encourage his goals, support his (hopeful) position as Headmaster of Westover Academy, and be purer than Caesar’s wife. Good luck with that!

Naval Maneuvers: When a woman requires an earth-shattering crush of pleasure to carry her away, she can’t do better than to call on the US Navy. Sorry, Marines!

Wicked Wager by Beverley Oakley!

Wicked Wager
By Beverley Oakley

♥♥ GiveAway ♥♥ 
Beverley is giving away a signed print copy of The Duchess and the Highwayman during the tour. Please use the Rafflecopter below to enter. Remember there is a chance to enter everyday so be sure to follow the Blog Tour. You may find the tour schedule and locations here https://goo.gl/XTRwwr

About Wicked Wager:

Can innocence survive the machinations of a malevolent society beauty and a charismatic rake?

Two weeks before her nuptials to her cold, harsh cousin, virtuous Celeste Rosington finds herself in the arms of notorious libertine, Lord Peregrine.


The unexpected encounter is, at first, shocking, but as Peregrine’s charm weaves its magic, becomes a welcome distraction from Celeste’s troubles. Isn’t she already the subject of whispers due to her involvement in the mysterious disappearance of a wealthy plantation magnate? It was a role orchestrated by her demanding husband-to-be in which Celeste had failed spectacularly.


Nevertheless, Celeste has no intention of sacrificing all of her scruples for a man she knows is only toying with her. One kiss from handsome, charismatic Viscount Peregrine will surely be enough to give her the strength to fulfil her marital obligations?


But what if one kiss is not enough?


With her reputation in the balance, Celeste must navigate the treacherous waters of envy, intrigue and deadly secrets, unaware she’s the unwitting pawn in a wicked wager between a ruthless society beauty and delicious, dissolute Lord Peregrine.


Could Peregrine really be a party to such perfidious plans? Will his reckless charm be the final undoing of a young woman once respected for her virtue and piety?


Or will Peregrine discover that true love is more powerful than greed and ambition in time to save Celeste from the terrible fate that otherwise awaits her?

Genre: Georgian Historical Romance

Buy Links:

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Excerpt:

The last of the applause drifted away and for a few seconds the shrill cries of the orange sellers held sway. Rising from his ironic bow for the benefit of his companion, Lord Peregrine held back the red velvet curtain that had afforded them privacy so that Xenia could pass through and join the throng of theatre goers descending the sweeping staircase.

He saw that she had fallen into conversation with a club-footed general whose more than interested eye swept appraisingly over Xenia’s abundant assets, and once again Perry felt again the familiar heating of his loins that only Xenia could inspire with a mere incendiary glance.

The contours of her sack-back gown, adorned with a row of bows the length of her stomacher, recalled the more lascivious of those thoughts he’d entertained for the past decade: what it would be like to undress her, layer by layer by layer. He could only imagine how many layers there might be, but the prize would be worth the exquisite torture of restraint. He’d not revealed quite how much her proposition tonight had taken him by surprise, and the fact he’d agreed fuelled him with an odd combination of conflicting sensations: raging lust tempered by the knowledge that he’d just sunk to depths of moral depravity that might make even his uncle squirm in his grave: seduce an innocent on the eve of her nuptials.

Except that Xenia maintained the young woman’s ingenuousness was a ploy. Still, Miss Rosington retained her standing in society as a paragon of virtue. What right had he to assume otherwise, just because it was convenient?

He was diverted by a squeal to his left. Xenia was moving ahead, caught up by the crowd, her head bent to absorb the admiration of her club-footed general. Peregrine meanwhile found himself unable to continue, due to the fact the young woman in front of him had snagged her skirts on what appeared to be a nail or splinter protruding from one of the supporting beams. No one could move until she’d freed herself, and as Peregrine was directly behind her it was incumbent upon him to act the gentlemen and so enable the rest of the pulsing crowd to forge ahead.

‘Please be careful, sir, it’ll tear and it’s the first time I’ve worn it,’ the young woman warned as he took a handful of stiff silk in one hand. ‘It’s my finest.’ She twisted her head round to address him.
As her lips parted, revealing a set of near perfect small white teeth, and her worried blue eyes bored into his, Peregrine felt a jolt of something unidentifiable plummet like a stone to the pit of his stomach. No, further than that, for without a doubt his groin was reacting with something akin to roiling hunger. And, surprisingly, with an intensity that exceeded the dull throb of ten years of wanting Xenia like a frustrated schoolboy.

Close to, Miss Rosington was exquisite, her pale white and rose-blushed skin far more lustrous than when seen from a distance through opera glasses. Her powdered coiffure, dressed to fashionable heights, accentuated high, rounded cheekbones; and with growing excitement he followed the sweep of her graceful neck to a bosom that was rising and falling with surely greater rapidity than fear of what peril her gown might face. He liked to think that was so, as her candid look met his and the connection between them seemed like the sharp tug of some inner cord, forcing him forward, his hand brushing hers, nestled beneath a froth of silken furbelows, as they both reached for the undamaged silk petticoat, now released.

‘No harm done,’ he murmured as she drew herself up, her companion, the black-eyed viscount to whom she was affianced, returning to claim her, drawing her away with the barest of thanks.

All over in a matter of seconds, and at what cost? For while silk skirts and dignity had escaped with minimal damage, Peregrine was the first to concede, as he watched her graceful back with pounding heart and aching groin, that a great deal of harm had indeed been done.

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About the Author:

Beverley Oakley is an Australian author who grew up in the African mountain kingdom of Lesotho, married a Norwegian bush pilot she met in Botswana’s Okavango Delta, and started writing historical romances to amuse herself in the 12 countries she’s lived as a ‘trailing spouse’ (in between working as an airborne geophysical survey operator, a teacher of English as a Second Language, and writing for her former newspaper).

Her Scandalous Miss Brightwell series was nominated Best Historical Romance by the Australian Romance Readers Association. She is also the author of the popular Daughters of Sin series, a Regency-era ‘Dynasty-style’ family saga laced with intrigue and espionage.

Under her real name Beverley Eikli, she writes Africa-set romantic suspense, and psychological historical romances. The Reluctant Bride won Choc-Lit’s Search for an Australian Star competition and her Regency tale of redemption The Maid of Milan was shortlisted in the Top Ten Reads of 2014 at the UK Festival of Romance.

Beverley lives north of Melbourne (overlooking a fabulous Gothic lunatic asylum) with the same gorgeous Norwegian husband, two daughters and a rambunctious Rhodesian Ridgeback.

You can read more at beverleyoakley.com

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Fangs and Fists 3: Victor: Kate Hill

Fangs and Fists 3: Victor
By Kate Hill

♥♥ GiveAway ♥♥ 
Kate is giving away a $10 Amazon GC during the tour. Please use the Rafflecopter below to enter. Remember there is a chance to enter everyday so be sure to follow the Blog Tour. You may find the tour schedule and locations here.

About Fangs and Fists 3: Victor: 

Werewolf gladiator Victor vows to escape captivity by demons or die trying–which nearly happens when his latest opponent takes him by surprise.

Jolanda is a member of a secret pack of wolf witches who want to free their kin from the dreaded demon tower. Strengthened by the power of her pack, she defeats Victor in the arena and demands that he be given to her as a mate.

Alone, they surrender to their overwhelming lust for each other, but Jolanda needs him for more than sex. She’s been sent to rescue the captive wolves and Victor is the Alpha she needs to help her. Together he and Jolanda plan a mass escape from the tower, hoping to strike a blow the demon masters will never forget.

Genres: Dark Fantasy, Futuristic, Paranormal, Romance

Buy Links: 

*♥*♥*♥*15% off any order when you shop Kate Hill *♥*♥*♥*
Code: Fangs-and-Fists
Will work on the entire cart, as long as there’s one Kate Hill book in the cart. 
Only at Changeling Press

~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~

Excerpt:

Two demon guards clad in black body armor entered the barracks. Their red eyes glowed behind dark face shields. They approached Victor and one guard said, “Get up and come with us.”

All the guards sounded and looked alike. They were even the same height and body structure.


Victor knew better than to refuse. There would be no point in fighting, even if he was so inclined.


He guessed he would be going to one of two possible places. It would either be the punishment chamber because he’d killed Slate too quickly or — and this was more likely — to the demon masters who had bargained with him to kill for their entertainment.


The guards brought Victor out of the barracks and down a steel corridor to an elevator at the end. They boarded it. Except for the soft whir of the elevator descending, there was silence.


It stopped with an almost imperceptible lurch. The door opened and Victor, accompanied by the guards, stepped into a spacious room with an enormous glass ball in the center of it. Several couches surrounded it. While the upholstery resembled leather, Victor’s sense of smell told him the couches were covered with material that hadn’t come from any four-legged animal.


He’d been in this room before. Here, the demons had bargained with him for the lives of his fellow gladiators, their mates, and their cubs. Here, he’d traded his integrity and his soul for their lives.


The guards disappeared into dark corners of the room.


Since he had no intention of sitting on the foul furniture, Victor stood near the glass ball and waited.


The ball glowed faintly at first. Then it brightened. From within, two demon masters — one male and one female — stared at him. He knew they weren’t actually there. The ball was similar to television. He could see and hear them, but they were far away.


The male had ink-black, elbow-length hair. Tall and slim, he was dressed from head to foot in red. The female had short white hair. Her skin was nearly as pale as her form-fitting white dress. Both demons stared at him with black eyes.


“Your game has improved, Victor,” said the male, “but I’m afraid you still haven’t mastered the art of performing. Your kills aren’t entertaining enough, but for now that’s beside the point. We haven’t called you here to critique your style, but for another reason.”


“We have something special planned for you,” the female continued. “There’s a new contender in the tower — one who has seen you fight and wishes to face you in the arena.”

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Other Books in the Series:


Bolt (Fangs and Fists 1)
Fangs and Fists 1: Bolt Buy Links:

    • Amazon: https://amzn.to/2WPqPsA


Grit (Fangs and Fists 2)
Fangs and Fists 2: Grit Buy Links:

    • Amazon – https://amzn.to/2Umj4gP

~♥~♥~♥~♥~♥~

About the Author:

The child of a painter and a psychic dreamer, Kate Hill feels spirituality and storytelling go hand-in-hand. She loves the scent of gardenia, the sound of wind chimes and the taste of honey. By listening to what isn’t said, she creates works based on unspoken desires. Kate prefers blurred gender lines and many varieties of romance. In a world where passion must at times be restrained, she believes erotica is a pleasure to be shared. With her stories she would like to make her fantasies yours and hopes you enjoy the ride. She also writes under the name Saloni Quinby. Please visit her online at:

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What’s in a Name?

A roseIs a rose by any other name just as sweet really? Maybe not. Names carry meanings, after all.

As writers, we often spend an inordinate amount of time searching for the best names for our characters. I particularly have a hard time finding a name easy to type. (Yes, it’s true. I use the two finger method and not all names are created the same for us non-typers. My protagonist in Passionate Destiny is named Margaret and I had a devil of a time typing those letters in the right order.) I also like to have names that sound and mean what I want. Most of us want a male name to sound strong. Maybe a female name, too. Or maybe a sweet name for the female protagonist would be nice and a mean sounding oneWhat's in a name? for her nemesis is just the ticket. So out of curiosity, I decided to look up name meanings. For both the girl and boy names below, I used a baby naming site, babynameguide.com.

Boys:
Aaron (Hebrew, Exalted one)
Brand (English, Proud)
Cullen (Irish, Handsome)
Morgan (Scottish, Sea Warrior)
Will (English, Resolute Protector)

Girls:
Cherri (French, Beloved)
Haley (Scandinavian, Heroine)
Patricia (Latin, Noble)
Sonya (Russian, Wisdom)
Yvonne (French, Archer)

It was fun just reading down the lists to see names I’d never heard before, like Dawnette (Sunrise) or Wacian (Alert). I found some names not much in use any more, like Mildred (Gentle advisor) or Valentine (Strong). There are lots of different sites to learn about names and the research is good—if you don’t get too carried away.

Not that I ever do… 😉

Thanks for reading!
Dee