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

Re-reading—a rarity #MFRWauthor

I love (love, LOVE!) reading. Some books haven’t been really great, but a lot have been. So many stories have occupied my mind long after reading them, for the characters or the lyrical writing or something I can’t quite put my finger on. But it’s not very often I go back and re-read them. In fact, off the top of my head, I can only think of two books I’ve re-read. Well, four I guess, but three are of the same series.

The first I thought about was Diane Gabaldon’s Outlander. I did love that book! The romance was strong, the historical aspect was interesting, and then (of course!) there was James Alexander Malcolm MacKenzie Fraser. He’s what kept calling me back, not Claire, the witch, with her nose in the air. I also re-read books 2 and 3, when a friend and I decided to read the entire series. I still have not read the final book (is there an actual final book out?) because I don’t want Jamie to die. I was ready for Claire to die by the end of book 4, to tell the truth, but that’s neither here nor there.

The other book that came to mind is one by Emma Holly called The Demon’s Daughter. I absolutely lost myself in that book!! I really like Emma Holly’s writing style, but then she wove a tight, exciting sci fi/fantasy adventure romance that kept me glued to the book from start to finish. In fact…I kinda want to read it again now.

I just finished reading Ed Hoornaert’s The Saint of Quarantine Island, and I think it has the quality of a book I could read again. There’s so much happening and so many quirks and twists that I think I could discover things the second time around that I might have missed the first. I really enjoyed it!

And I could also re-read Jan Selbourne’s Perilous Love (or Behind the Clouds if you prefer a cover without the naked chest!) In that book, Jan wrote a real love story—more than a romance—and set it against the opening chords of WWI. It is very exciting, and she brought the romance out slowly but surely. Wonderful book!!

Which books have you re-read?

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

Dee
Burning Bridges by Anne Krist
One Woman Only
Only a Good Man Will Do
Naval Maneuvers

Wrong place, wrong time, right woman #MFRWsteam

This is a blog hop! Please see the end of the post for the link to other
steamy excerpts!

Only a Good Man Will Do by Dee S. KnightBlurb for 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!
Daniel Goodman is a man on a mission. He aims to become headmaster of Westover Academy. For that he needs a particular, special woman to help him set high standards. Into his cut and dried life of moral and upright behavior, comes Eve Star, formerly one of Europe’s foremost exotic dancers. Her life is anything but cut and dried, black and white. Daniel is drawn to her like a kid to chocolate. Nothing good can come of this attraction. Or can it? He is after all, a good man.

Buy link:
KU

Excerpt:
Daniel couldn’t wait to get Eve to the bedroom. When he heard the click of MFRW Steamthe lock, it was as though they’d pushed the world away and existed alone in that island of an apartment.

What are you doing? Are you out of your fucking mind? He was where he shouldn’t be and with a woman he shouldn’t be. And he didn’t give a damn.

He backed her against the door. “Take off your clothes.”

Locking onto his eyes, she started unbuttoning her blouse. She must be as crazy as he. If he said the wrong word at the Academy, her son would be out, yet she—

“Wait a minute. Swear you aren’t doing this to keep your son in school.”

Eve’s eyes narrowed then widened. “Are you using his position at Westover as a threat?”

“Hell, no.”

“I want you as much as you want me. That’s the only reason I let you in this apartment.”

Satisfied, he nodded. She loosened the last button and let her blouse fall to the floor. Still watching his eyes, she reached behind and unhooked her bra. Her breasts were large, but not overly so. He cupped one. The stiffened peak of her nipple scraped his palm as he massaged her. He removed his hand and raised his eyes back to hers.

She unzipped and unsnapped her jeans. He crowded her but in a great stripper move, she slithered down the door, pushing her jeans and panties with her. On her haunches in front of him, she unbuckled his belt. He reached in his pocket for the rubber he’d brought and let her free his cock as she pulled down his trousers and briefs.

Her breath was hot on him, and her tongue like a branding iron striking across the crown, licking up his pre-cum and dipping into the tiny slit as though digging for more. Her mouth surrounded the head of his cock, hot and wet and so inviting. He closed his eyes and pushed forward, letting the heat envelope him, burn him. He withdrew and the cold air on his tender flesh sent a shiver through him, a shiver she sensed because she surged forward, covering him in heat again. When she pulled back, she wrapped her warm hand around his exposed rod. His cock twitched, gliding like a snake into the recesses of her mouth, sliding ever so slightly past the mouth of her throat. His balls tightened, so ready to let go. Daniel pulled back.

“Here,” he said, handing her the condom. It took her no time to apply it, then, unbelievably, she stood in the tiny space he allowed.

This time, Daniel crouched before her, removing her shoes and slipping the jeans over her feet. He parted her legs and licked his way from ankle to thigh. Her skin smoothed over his cheek, a length of silk leading to the apex, an amazing thatch of soft curls. He nuzzled and her aroma overtook him, the warm, musk scent making his dick pulse with need. With a groan, she widened her stance. He parted her lower lips and studied her. Already, dew drops of her essence glistened along her lips and the entrance to her pussy. His tongue lapped it up, stroking a path to her clit.

“Oh, God!” She slapped her hands against the door.

She was wet enough, especially after his brief exploration. Another time he’d take more care. Right now, he only wanted to feel her around him, to be lost in her touch, her scent, her woman’s heat that could bring the strongest man to his knees.

He stood and lifted her over him. “Are you ready?” His voice was hoarse, the taste of her still on his tongue spurring his desire and emptying him of all reason.

“More than ready.”

In a single stroke he drove into her. She cried out.

“Did I hurt you?”

She wrapped her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck, pulling him as close as he could get. His hands kneaded her ass. Her hips undulated, grinding into him.

“Harder,” she whispered in his ear.

“Oh, God,” he moaned. Feeling like a man of iron, he pounded her back against the door. Someone had started another song in the bar below and the steady bass beat a feral rhythm to which he stroked. Steel sheathed in liquid fire, he drove in and pulled out. In and out, in and out, to the beat from below, to the pounding of his heart, to the grunts of pleasure Eve made while he hammered her to the door.

And then his balls clenched against her butt and he came, hard, strong, for what felt like forever. At the same moment, Eve moaned, holding him tight while her muscles clamped, seeking to trap him deep within. No problem there. He was deep and long and right where he wanted to be. She was tight and strong and hard around him.

They stood there until he had nothing left to give and the ripples of her orgasm died away. His mouth sought hers, drinking and sipping and nuzzling. For the first time, he noticed her hands tangled in his hair. Her tongue invaded his mouth, taking command in a way he found arousing. Incredibly, his heart sped and his breathing quickened. Damn, he couldn’t wait to have her again.

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Red Sails #MFRWauthor

Sunset sailingRemember that song, Red Sails in the Sunset? Probably not unless you’re as old as dirt, like me. I always liked it, though. So romantic, watching a sailing ship in the sunset as it sets out on the ocean. The sails are billowing and catching the last rays of the sun. There is adventure there. There is a dream. There is the wide sea and endless stars during the night. But there is NOT me.

I happen to believe in reincarnation. Somewhere in one of my past lives I must have drowned because I have a powerful fear of water. Many people see a cruise as a chance to get away, different shows every night, buffets any time you want to eat, sweet salt breezes, all kinds of games and people to meet. I see rogue waves, deep ocean, and living on a ship with the population of a small town and no place to go if I want to get off.

Essentially, after folks were trapped aboard ship and unable to disembark Cruise shipthanks to corona virus, no one can cruise right now. But even in the happiest of times, no way would you get me on a cruise ship. I’m happy for those who do enjoy the voyage. More power to you! I understand lots of people have already signed up for when ships set sail again. For me, I’ll happily wave goodbye from the shore!

How about you? Are you a happy sailor or a landlubber, like me?

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 

More magic! #MFRWHooks

Your Desire by Dee S. KnightBlurb:
Your Desire. Two stories about a mysterious shop that appears for one reason: to bring a special person the thrill of love and the spice of passion. Magic reveals the hidden, usually surprising, desires of the heart. Then the store fades from sight and memory, only to reappear somewhere else. Maybe in your town….

Buy link:
Amazon KU

MFRW Book HooksExcerpt:
“Here comes Allison now. We’ll ask her.” His voice was loud enough to be heard throughout the ER. She slipped through the opening to see Frank sitting on the edge of the bed. Walter Neeley, the ophthalmologist, stood in front of him. Mike stood apart, his arms crossed over the metal cover of the hospital chart held tightly against his chest. His face was serious but a look of mischievous glee colored his eyes as he observed the verbal sparring between the two men. Beside him stood Richard Matthews, head of neurology, who nodded a greeting to her.

“Ask Allison what?” She knew she’d have to referee something, based on the bull-headed expressions of both doctor and patient. Frank and Walt had already turned toward the opening in the curtains when she slipped in. This damn noisy dress.

“I want to hold Mr. Hughes overnight. He refuses. Says he’ll be all right at your house.” Walt Neeley arched a brow at her. “As he’s your friend, perhaps you can convince him that it’s in his own best interests to be admitted for the night.”

Unconsciously, she moved to stand beside Frank, touching his hand to let him know she was there. His head followed her every movement. “Actually he’s not my fr—”

“Tell him there’s no need for me to remain here overnight, Allison. If he’d give me something for this damn headache, I’d be fine. Well, if I could see, that is.” He practically growled out the last.

“They can’t give you anything that will make you sleep.”

“But it hurts like hell.”

“I know, but buck up,” she stage-whispered.

He snorted and turned away.

“Actually, Frank,” she stated in her most persuasive tone, “it is in your best interest to stay here. If anything should happen, the staff and equipment you need will be here.”

“No.”

Damn it! She couldn’t take him home. Besides the obvious medical risks, there was the unsettled feeling she experienced around him. It was unreasonable, but there, nonetheless. Why wouldn’t the obstinate man allow them to admit him so she could go home alone to her safe and ordered life.

“Mr. Hughes.”

Frank turned his head, his recalcitrant expression carved in stone.

“You don’t seem to realize the seriousness of your condition. You have a contusion, and as Nurse Hayes suggested, that’s bad enough. But if the swelling of your brain worsens during the night, you’ll need care she can’t give you at home.”

Frank seemed to consider this. “Dr. Matthews, is it?” He asked but continued without waiting for confirmation. “I think I do understand the seriousness of my condition. If you and the staff here haven’t explained it thoroughly enough, my own doctor, after examining the test results you sent, has told me plainly that I’m a jackass if I leave here tonight. However, he’s well aware of my nature and knows I’m a man used to taking judicious risks. I trust Ms. Hayes. She’s a well-trained nurse, is she not?”

“This has nothing to do with Allison’s capabilities,” spit out Walt Neeley.

“This has to do with your welfare and the liability of the hospital if you leave and something happens.”

She sighed, knowing the men could butt heads all night without resolution. “What about the blindness?”

Walt spoke. “As far as we can tell, the problem is trauma-induced and will resolve itself when the swelling goes down. Tonight he’ll have to be checked every two hours.”

“Allison will do that.” Frank didn’t give the slightest intimation that she might say no.

She looked at him, really looked at him. He acted the tyrant, totally commanding, used to having every whim fulfilled and order followed without question. But there was an odd hesitance under it all. She’d noticed the characteristic earlier, too, when they were making their way out of the pasture. Discomfort, almost fear.

His hands fisted on his legs, his brows puckered ever so slightly in worry. Other than those tells, no one would know he wasn’t the controlling force he pretended to be. Maybe only she saw he had the false bravado of a man used to being in charge, suddenly finding himself at the mercy of fate. If so, she might not understand his attitude but she wouldn’t betray him.

She tried one more approach. “What if I stayed with you? I’d be here each time the nurse woke you up.”

He shook his head. “If you won’t take me home I’ll call my assistant. He’ll come down immediately and we’ll drive back to DC tonight.”

Walt Neeley threw his hands up and snorted in disbelief. Frank’s lips turned up in a tiny smile, probably secure in the knowledge that he’d presented an alternative worse than going home with her.

Mike gave a one-shouldered shrug when she glanced at him. “I strongly advise he be admitted.” Frank opened his mouth to speak, but Mike cut him off. “If he insists on going, we can’t stop him. You’re one of the people I’d entrust him to. If you want him, of course.”

All four men waited to hear her judgment. “I suppose he could sleep on the sofa in the office. I wouldn’t want him climbing the stairs.” She spoke out loud, but more to herself, reasoning what to do. “I can get him back here very quickly if need be.”

“Good.” Frank spoke as though her decision had been a foregone conclusion all along. His hands relaxed on his thighs.

Dr. Matthews slid by on his way out of the cubicle. “You’ll have to sign an AMA form. That’s Against Medical Advice.” He turned to look sternly at Frank then at her. “I wish you’d reconsider, Mr. Hughes.”

“I appreciate your advice, Doctor, but get the form, please.”

“I’ll see to the rest of the paperwork so you can get home,” Mike said. He threw Allison a worried look before following the neurologist out of the cubicle.

Walt lounged against the wall, arms crossed, staring at her. “I assume you know who this is, Allison? If anything happens with someone of his position, I’d hate to think what the repercussions might be.” He studied her.

“I had no idea you were friends with—”

“She doesn’t need you telling her about her friends, Doctor. And I’d appreciate your restraint when it comes to the rest of the staff. No one needs to know what I do since it has no bearing on why I’m here.”

“Huh!” Walt pushed himself away from the wall. “Call if you need help tonight, Allison. And I hope you make sure he pays for the fence, and your hospitality,” he advised before leaving.

“What is it with you people and fences?”

Traveling on a whim #MFRWauthor

Are you the sort of person who plans every detail of a trip? Or one who takes off with only vague ideas of where you want to stay each night on the way to your destination? Do you even have a destination? Of course, traveling for fun and traveling for business are two different things. I want to talk here about vacationing.

When Jack and I were trucking, we had a given starting point and ending point, and a day we were expected to deliver. Other than those criteria, we were free to choose our own path. Of course, we paid for the diesel, so our “path” was generally as straight a line as we could make it. When we go on vacation now, we usually don’t even pack until the night before we’re leaving. Then we complete the trip as we want to at the time, stopping early in the day if we feel tired or see something we want to explore.

A couple of years ago, we drove from Idaho to Chicago and then came home through Iowa to see my mom and aunt. The only hotel reservations we made were in Chicago. Every other night, we chose a hotel that looked good at the time we wanted to stop. We had one thing we wanted to see specifically: The Iowa 80 truck stop—just to relive our trucking days. While in Iowa, we decided to drive back a different route, and it was fun living on the fly.

I knew a woman once who asked me about the things to see “out west.” We were living in Virginia but of course had trucked extensively in the western states she wanted to see. She pulled out a map and started at the Grand Canyon, then worked her way up through Utah, Colorado, and into the Dakotas. We worked at a school and had the summer off, so I said, “That will be a great month-long trip, You’ll have fun!” “A month?” she said. “We’re doing this in two weeks. I have every minute planned.” Wow! They came back exhausted but I guess had spent at least ten minutes at each attraction, lol. They had fun, and that’s all that really counted. But that’s not the way Jack and I roll. As they say, different strokes for different folks!

How do you travel for fun? Do you have reservations made for each night and plans for each day’s sightseeing? Or do you take the trip as it comes?

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, Book 2 of the Good Man series
Only a Good Man Will Do, Book 1 of the Good Man series
Naval Maneuvers

Awards and affirmation: BVS’s talented authors

AwardWhat’s in an Award? Maybe just what you need to keep going.

If you’ve spent much time reading Black Velvet Seductions authors, you know you’re delving into some pretty good stuff. I’m not saying that because I’m one of their authors, though it’s always special when you feel you’re among really good company. And that’s how I’ve felt ever since Richard Savage accepted my first BVS book, Naval Maneuvers. The company is a class act all the way, and their writers prove that with each new release. I’d like to highlight two friends at BVS who recently won awards for their books. If you haven’t read either of these ladies, you really should.

Jan Selbourne

Jan writes historical fiction, some very romantic and some more plot driven then romance driven. Either way, this woman has a way with words that will draw you in and make you stay up late reading. Jan won 5 stars and recognition for two of her books last year at Coffee Pot Book Club. One of those books, Lies of Gold, won Silver for historical book of 2019! Although Lies of Gold isn’t a BVS book, one of Jan’s very best books, I think, is: Perilous Love. It’s one of my favorites! But really, with Jan, you can’t go wrong!

Book: Lies of Gold
Silver medal for Historical Book of the Year, 2019
Awarded by: The Coffee Pot Book Club
Date of award: December 3rd, 2019

Here’s what Jan has to say about winning her award.

NA: What was your first reaction when you saw that you’d finaled in a Lies of Gold by Jan Selbournecontest and then won?
JS: I did receive a senior school prize for best short story, but I think mum and dad were more excited than I was. Fast forward to now – or should I say 2019, when my book The Proposition was given a wonderful review and 5 Stars Award by Mary Anne Yarde, Coffee Pot Book Club. Encouraged, I submitted Lies of Gold to Mary Anne and was thrilled to receive a glowing review and 5 Stars Award. I thought that was it until her email in November informing me Lies of Gold was a finalist in the 2019 Book of the Year – Historical Romance category. We would be informed of the results in early December. My first reaction? Stunned. When that email appeared in my Inbox I was too nervous to look. Closed my eyes, deep breath, hit the mouse, opened my eyes to read the words Silver Medal. Lies of Gold had been awarded Silver Medal! I was speechless – and that doesn’t happen often.

NA: How did your family/friends react?
JS: They were really pleased and like me, surprised – wow.

NA: What was the result of your winning the award (i.e., did you make any changes in the way you wrote or what you wrote; did you try to emulate the winning book/story instead of trying new things, etc.)?
JS: The result was a real shot in the arm for me. Promoting and marketing can be tough. However this award convinced me I must be doing something right. Don’t stop writing!

Alice Renaud

If you enjoy fantasy and magic mixed amongst your romance, you should definitely read Alice Renaud’s Sea of Love series. Her writing is so engaging, and she can paint a picture with words that few others can. Her third book in the series is coming out this year from BVS and I’m saving a place on my Kindle for it! Either of the two current books in the series (A Merman’s Choice and Music for a Merman) can stand alone, so dig in with the first or the second. Alice won the award for the series—quite an accomplishment!

Sea of Love series by Alice RenaudSeries: Sea of Love
Best Paranormal Series, 2019
Awarded by: The Paranormal Romance Guild
Date of award: January 2020

Here’s Alice’s reaction to her winning.

NA: What was your first reaction when you saw that you’d finaled in a contest and then won?
AR: Incredulity – I never thought my first book A Merman’s Choice and the series it’s part of, Sea of Love, would be nominated – let alone win!

NA: How did your family/friends react?
AR: My husband was very proud. My friends were impressed – I think they began to realize this writing lark could be a serious thing for me.

NA: What was the result of your winning the award (i.e., did you make any changes in the way you wrote or what you wrote; did you try to emulate the winning book/story instead of trying new things, etc.)?
AR: Mainly it motivated me to keep on writing – I was beginning to get discouraged because I wasn’t selling many books and thought maybe the books weren’t any good and perhaps I should just give up. It proved my writing was good. I started a new series, Conjuring Love, which is different in content and style from the Sea of Love series.

I guess I’ll slide in here, too. Last year my book, Only a Good Man Will Do, won a prize from the Las Vegas Romance Writers. It thrilled me to death, and I’m very grateful for their recognition. I’ve won a few contests before, including the Maggie Award of Excellence from the Georgia Romance Writers and it’s always an exciting surprise. But I had taken a few years off from writing, and this was just my second book since trying to come back. Maybe that’s why it was so thrilling. Whatever, the reason, thanks to the LVRW for giving me this honor!

Only a Good Man Will Do by Dee S. KnightBook: Only a Good Man Will Do (Book 1 of the Good Man series)
I Heart Indie, Best Erotic Romance of 2019
Awarded by: Las Vegas Romance Writers
Date of award: September 1, 2019

Here’s what I thought.

NA: What was your first reaction when you saw that you’d finaled in a contest and then won?
DSK: I was shocked. And then I jumped up and down and texted my husband right away.

NA: How did your family/friends react?
DSK: Jack was as happy for me as I was for myself. He knew how hard it had been for me to get back into writing. In his own way he’d nudged and cajoled, so I think he’s taken credit for the award. 😉

NA: What was the result of your winning the award (i.e., did you make any changes in the way you wrote or what you wrote; did you try to emulate the winning book/story instead of trying new things, etc.)?
DSK: As Alice said, we’re our own worst enemies. When there is not a lot of recognition—especially sales and lots of followers and such—it’s easy to feel you don’t deserve to be recognized because you aren’t good enough. It’s easier now to cut myself a little slack and admit that maybe I am good at what I try to do.

That’s the main point I want to end with. There are others at BVS who have won awards with their work (but were to shy to say so here). Some writers there maybe haven’t won an award award, but they’ve received recognition for their writing in other ways, through great sales or love notes from their fans and such. An award doesn’t matter that much in the long run. It’s the love of the readers and the joy of being able to do what we love. Those are awards enough.

Check out some wonderful writers at BVS and see how great reading can be.

Fantasy and magic are the key #MFRWHooks

Your Desire by Dee S. KnightThis is a blog hop. Be sure to check the link at the bottom to see posts from other authors!
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? The store fades from sight and memory, only to reappear somewhere else. Maybe in your town….
Buy link:
KU https://tinyurl.com/ux3asvo

MFRW Book Hooks

Excerpt:
The whir of a sewing machine traveled across the ether. As intended, the sound blended with the those of a lawn mower in Cleveland, a blender in Dallas, an electric razor in Seattle. Some people, those specially attuned to properties outside the normal realm of humans, heard buzzing that could have been a sewing machine, but it was faint and truly indistinguishable for what it was. More like a mosquito at the ear. They heard it but couldn’t decipher exactly where to swat, so they did their best ignore it.

Of course, the sound was not supposed to be heard, and therefore not investigated. The very few who did hear it clearly, who also heard Nigel and his granddaughter clearly, well, they generally resided in a hospital setting where three squares a day were provided and tranquility came in the form of little green pills. At the least, they saw a shrink three times a week. Their knowledge wasn’t taken seriously.

This worried Nigel, but what could he do? It wasn’t his fault humans had devolved to the point where they no longer believed in enchantment. He shook his head and tsked as he sewed. When he was a boy learning the business from his grandfather as his granddaughter now learned from him, no one would have believed the universe could get to this point, where people believed in the “magic” of technology but not the magic that could be found in their own hearts.

Of course, challenges were exciting, and skeptical humans certainly kept him on his toes.

Absently, he hummed as he completed the final seam on the full, purple satin skirt. He pulled it from the machine, snipped the threads and shook the material out before pinning it on the dress form.

“Edwina! I have the skirt finished. Come here, dear.” Standing back to cast a critical eye over how the skirt hung, he held up an artist’s rendition of what the final product should be. He looked from drawing to garment, made a few small adjustments to the pleating around the waist and nodded in satisfaction.

“Hey, Gramps,” his granddaughter said, bounding into the room.

For the millionth time, he mentally cringed at the lack of style in today’s youth. Their kind had the ability to appear any way they wished. Glancing in the mirror, he saw a debonair David Niven reflected back. The sleeves of his snowy white shirt were rolled to his elbows, but the Windsor knot in his tie was perfect, as was the knife-sharp crease in his trousers and the shine on his shoes. When he rolled down his sleeves and put on his jacket, he would look every inch the gentleman. Quirking his brows in approval, he unconsciously ran a fingertip lightly over his moustache. Instead of selecting what he would consider an appropriate shell, Edwina—a name which screamed propriety—chose to look like a bag lady gone wild.

Like today, for instance. Long blond hair, streaked with pink and purple, pulled up into a ponytail to hang down the side of her head. Black lipstick and eye shadow. Two earrings in one ear and four in the other. A bright orange tank top and faded jeans—separated scandalously by a good three inches of bare stomach—looked as though they’d been worn (and torn) for centuries. And her feet—her lovely, dainty feet!—were shod in horrid, ugly brown things that not even the most desperate soldier in Caesar’s army would have donned.

When he had questioned her once about her appearance, she’d said with delight that she was starting her own trend. A Lauper-Madonna-Pink look. It was not something he’d understood. Today, after a quick perusal, he leaned closer.

“What is that?” He swiped his thumb across her cheek, then examined what was on the pad.

“Body glitter. Isn’t it cool?” She grinned at him.

Her enthusiasm, as well as her utter lack of self-consciousness, brought the slightest of smiles to his eyes, even as his mouth formed a moue of reproach.

“Yes, well.” He wiped his thumb on a handkerchief pulled from the pocket of his jacket, hanging on the wall behind Edwina. “‘Cool’ is what ice cubes provide. I don’t know what body glitter is good for.”

Giggles flowed from her, reminding him of when she was a small girl instead of the nearly grown youngster she was now. Where had the centuries gone? Despite the shudders her wardrobe caused, he loved Edwina enormously and strove to give her the very best education in what they did, which was make dreams come true.

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The best laid plans… #MFRWHooks

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

Blurb:
Only a Good Man Will Do by Dee S. KnightSeriously 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!

Daniel Goodman is a man on a mission. For years he has striven for perfection, fighting for the pinnacle achievement in his world of academia, Headmaster of Westover Academy. Westover, established before the American Revolution, is still one of the most prestigious schools in the country. They accept only boys whose parents fit a certain mold and only those teachers who hold to a stringent set of mores, on and off campus. His brother Jonah considers Daniel a prig. Daniel sees himself as doing his best to serve his students. How much better can he serve them as headmaster? That is what he seeks to find out.

Suddenly, into his cut and dried, strictly black and white life of moral and upright behavior, comes Eve Star, formerly one of Europe’s foremost exotic dancers. Her life is anything but cut and dried, black and white. Bad enough that she’s enrolled her son in Westover Academy under false pretenses. More, she runs the town’s most disreputable bar. Worst, much to Daniel’s dismay, he finds himself drawn to her like a kid to chocolate. Nothing good can come of this attraction. Or can it? He is after all, a good man.

Buy link:
Amazon Kindle Unlimited

MFRW Book Hooks

Excerpt:
Daniel walked into the parlor of the headmaster’s house Saturday afternoon seeking first the food table and second, his friend, Stan Baxter. He spotted them both near the front window.

“You’re late,” Stan said.

“Lots of people wanted to chat.” Parents’ Weekend, when teachers sat in their classrooms to meet their students’ mothers and fathers, meant mandatory tea afterwards for all professionals at the Academy. Board members and parents attended at their own discretion, and the boys—the reason the school existed and they were all there—mostly stayed out of sight and hearing.

“Fortunately for me, a good many parents now have grabbed their progeny and left campus, so I have access to the snacks unimpeded,” Daniel said, examining the finger food on display before making his selections. The challenge was always how to load his plate while appearing to take a socially acceptable portion. “Did I miss anything?”

“Only an angel.” Stan turned toward the window. “Holy Mother! Look at that,” he muttered.

“What?” Daniel asked, fitting a cucumber sandwich beside the smoked salmon-topped cracker on his dessert plate. “Am I missing a table of fare? I swear, every year the offerings at these teas are more meager than the last.”

Stan chuckled and answered in the same low voice, “Is your stomach all you think about? I was talking about another kind of dish. One you can have fun eating in bed, if you catch my drift. And she just slipped out onto the lawn.”

“Is your libido all you think about?” Daniel bit a carrot stick in two and sighed. Only three more hours and he could order a pizza. With all of his charges gone from the dormitory for Parents’ Weekend, he had a rare, private, two-day holiday ahead of him. With the tiny plate full, he joined Stan at the large windows. “Where is this goddess?”

“There. In the red dress and hat.”

Daniel saw nothing but the shapely form of a woman walking away. Slender ankles topped three inch heels. A dress of some kind of lustrous material hit her mid-calf. The style was soft and feminine, and berry red. Not many women showed up at Westover in a color sure to make them the focus of attention. Not that most of them didn’t expect to be the focus—didn’t demand it, in fact—but they usually weren’t so obvious. The breeze at her back molded the material to the curves of her hips and ass, and fluttered the dress’s full sleeves. A wide-brimmed hat hid her hair, but based on what was visible, Daniel easily imagined a long column of neck designed for kissing.

At that moment, a young boy wearing the school uniform and a big grin ran up to the woman. She bent to catch him in her arms. When she straightened, she ruffled the boy’s hair. His expression and his wagging finger showed that he chastised her, but then he laughed and finger-combed the mussed hair back into place. She took his hand and they walked toward the circle where most of the parents parked. Looking up at the woman, the boy’s lips moved the whole while, carrying on a steady monologue.

Something in her actions captured Daniel’s attention. They were artless, performed naturally and with unabashed love. The child fairly skipped beside her and the frequent turns of her head showed she looked at him as though hanging on every word he spoke.

“How wonderful,” Daniel murmured, impressed with her total attention to the boy. “Did you see that?”

“Oh, yeah. I didn’t think her hips would ever stop swaying, and it’s a crime they make hemlines so long.”

Daniel laughed. “You’re such a hedonist.”

“And proud of it. But looks like she’s a student’s mother and off limits for dating. Damn the luck.”

For once, Daniel agreed with his friend. But not just because of the woman’s obvious good figure. More because she seemed to love her son and didn’t care who knew it. He normally kept his distance from flashy women, as this one appeared to be, based on her dress color, but her easy manner with the boy would be enough to make him ignore his own inclination toward the conservative. If she weren’t also a patron of the school. Assuming the gods smiled on him and he became headmaster, he and the woman would be on business terms, and nothing good ever came from mixing business with pleasure. Pleasure is what every male instinct in him screamed she would be.

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Men (and women) in uniform #MFRWHooks

Naval Maneuvers by Dee S. KnightBlurb from Naval Maneuvers:
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.

Book Hooks MFRW

Buy link: Amazon KU

Excerpt:
Naval Maneuvers by Dee S. KnightShe cleared her throat. Finally concentrating on the map he held she asked, “Where are we again?” Jeez. The thing had to have every trail in the area on it. Even with this map, she’d be just as lost.

He studied the paper for a few seconds and then folded it so he could use one hand to hold it. With the other he pointed. “We’re here. I’d say if you head back west about a mile and then turn north you’ll run right into the campground.” Sure enough, right under his finger was a mark for Paradise Valley Campground. “About four miles should do it.”

“Four miles?”

“Done in?” He smiled and in the dappled sunlight his eyes twinkled and his straight teeth seemed blindingly white. He was good looking enough to be a model. An underwear model. Yeah, her mind’s eye pictured him in only underwear. She licked her lips.

Unfortunately, in her current state—more hair pulled loose from her ponytail than still in it, Redskins ball cap half on, half off, scratches on her arms and legs, and probably smears of grime from where she’d wiped sweat off her face—she must look more like a reject from Deliverance.

“I’ve been out since about ten and I’m not used to these mountains. I usually do my running on flat ground.”

“Did you have plenty of water with you and something to eat?”

“Water, yes. But only a cup of trail mix.”

He raised his brows until the right brow disappeared under the shock of hair on his forehead. “Where do you normally run?”

“Around D.C.”

“Ah. Where there’s a coffee shop every few blocks.”

Just because she was lost was no friggin’ cause for him to patronize her. “I normally run ten to fifteen miles a day with nary a coffee break. This is just my first time here, and I’m not quite used to the ups and downs.”

“They do call them ‘mountains.'”

And they do call them assholes. Shocks of sexual electricity and hyper-attraction did not excuse a man from being a dick. “You’re right. So right. Thanks for the help. I’ll be on my way now.” After consulting her compass once more she started west, the thought of four miles draining what was left of her energy. But she could do it. Four miles was nothing. Nothing. She did more than that every day of the week.

A branch knocked the cap off her head just as a vine caught her leg and she fell, sliding on her butt into a shallow ravine. Her hair clung to her neck and face. She pulled strands out of her mouth, off her forehead and back behind her ears. When had she last been this hot, sweaty, and just plain exhausted? Maintains one, Carie zero.

Leaves rustled behind her and over her head. “You can make the four miles,” he called down to her. “I don’t have any doubts about it. Or you can walk half a mile to the road and I’ll drive you.”

Half a mile? There’s a friggin’ road half a mile away? Why didn’t he point that out on his little Boy Scout map?

Sighing, she dragged herself to her feet and started up the five yards of hillside that looked more like a mountain. When she was close to the top, he extended his hand. She took it and another spark sizzled up her arm, across her shoulder, and zipped south. Good God! He was like a sexual magnetic pole. If she pointed her compass at him, the needle would snap right to S-E-X.

Naval Maneuvers by Dee S. KNight

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