erotic romance – Page 4 – Nomad Authors Blog

What’s a guy to do? #MFRWHooks

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

Blurb:
As one of a set of triplets, Jonah Goodman has always stood out as the least academic—and the last one to take the world, or commitment, seriously. Thing is, that’s not really who he is. But who can he convince of that? Not his family, who see him as they always have. And maybe not his one love, the sweetheart he left behind in high school but with whom he is now sharing an erotic holiday. Will he get his second chance to prove to Kelly that he is a loving man who wants more than a sensual few days, but a real relationship with the woman he lost once and doesn’t want to lose again? With that chance and Kelly’s love, Jonah knows that a “good man” can become a better man.

Buy link:

Kindle Unlimited

Excerpt:

He lifted his finger to signal the barkeep, who slung a towel over his shoulder and came right down.

“A burger and fries, please.” Jonah had said the words, but in synch with someone else. Someone whose voice was slightly higher and a lot more feminine. He turned his head to the left and met the green gaze of the last person he wanted to see tonight. For an instant, the spit dried in his mouth and his eyes widened as his past slammed headfirst into his present. She was still the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, and his body responded with an immediate and aching erection.

Then she opened her mouth.

“Oh hell,” Kelly said. “It’s you.”

Irritation struck Jonah right between the eyes at Kelly’s tone if not her words. “Yeah, it’s me.”

“So,” interrupted the barman, “two burgers and fries?” He looked at Jonah. “You paying?”

“Sure,” he said at the same time she said, “No.”

“I don’t mind,” Jonah said.

“No thank you,” Kelly said stiffly. She held out a crisp, new twenty-dollar bill. “Rare as you’ll cook it. Add a bottle of Sam Adams to that, will you? And I’ll be sitting over there in that back booth.”

The guy behind the bar took her money and scribbled on a pad of paper. “Change will come with your beer.” He looked to Jonah. “You?”

“Medium rare on the burger, and I’ll take a refill on my beer.” Standing, he dug out a wrinkled twenty from his front pocket and handed it over. “I’ll be somewhere near that back booth.” The guy nodded and left. Turning, Jonah noticed that Kelly had already gone. She sat as prim as could be, in the back of the dining room, in the booth she’d claimed. A two-top table sat empty next to the booth. Grabbing his beer, he ambled in that direction.

Why in the world, after all the angst he’d suffered knowing he was going to have to see her this weekend, did he now willingly sit near Kelly? He must have some masochist thing going on that he never noticed before. He placed his beer bottle on the table and sat down facing the same direction she faced.

Years ago, she’d worn a lilac fragrance. When the lilacs bloomed each spring since, he’d thought of Kelly. She wore something different now. Jonah was grateful because it provided a break from his memories of her.

“What are you doing? There are any number of other places you could sit, and I wish you would.”

“What was that?” Jonah drawled. “This is a free country and I believe I can sit anywhere I want to. I choose here.”

“Ugh! I thought when we saw each other again you’d be aggravating but I see I underestimated you.” She craned her neck as though looking for another table.

“There’s no place you could move in here right now that I couldn’t find a place close by so let’s just get this initial meeting out of the way and the rest of the weekend will be easier.”

Jonah cast a glance at her and then faced forward again. She didn’t look that much different than when he’d last seen her. How could that be? Same strawberry blonde hair, but cut stylishly short. Her eyes still flashed emerald fire—he’d seen that when she glared at him at the bar. If anything, her shape was more perfect than when they were in high school. Her waist was narrow, her breasts full, and legs that disappeared under her knee-length dress seemed long and curvy. But there was something very different about this Kelly. That glowing, smiling, confident girl he’d fallen in puppy love with and always wondered about had disappeared. In her place sat a woman who looked as though she’d seen a side of the world that had disappointed her.

Protectiveness pushed to the forefront and Jonah wished he could knock her troubles—whatever they were—off her shoulders. One thing remained the same. She still made his heart beat erratically, still had him wishing he could hold her—and do more. He needed to get himself under control if he was going to avoid making a fool of himself.

Quietly she sat, grinding her jaw. Then, her shoulders slumped and she laid her head against the back of the booth as though it was just too heavy to hold up any longer. “Maybe you’re right.”

“Of course I’m right. Here, let’s make this easier.” He stood up and then slid into the booth across from her. All the better to stare into her eyes and study her plump lips that looked so kissable he nearly groaned.

Fire flashed in the emerald depths of her eyes again. “I didn’t invite you to sit with me.”

“Are you sure? Sorry. I thought you did.” The waitress brought their beers and change. Jonah handed her back a five and gave her a broad smile. “Thanks. I’ll have my dinner here, too, okay?”

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Ambition vs Love #MFRWHooks

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

Blurb:
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:
Kindle Unlimited

Excerpt:
Daniel stopped at an open doorway and watched Eve cuddle a snuffling child on her lap.

“It’s okay, my darling, I’m here.”

Quickly, the child stopped stirring and Eve placed him back in bed.
“Mama loves her baby,” she said in a low voice.

Daniel stepped uninvited into the room and walked to the dresser. A framed photo of a smiling dark-haired man caught his eye. “Your husband?” He studied the photo.

“Timmy’s father.” She brushed the boy’s hair from his forehead and then came to stand beside Daniel.

She fidgeted, shifting her weight from foot to foot. “Let’s go. He’s asleep now.”

Something about the photo wasn’t right. The man looked familiar, maybe an actor or… In a flash of disbelief, he removed the backing from the frame.

“Wait—” She reached out, but too late to keep Daniel from seeing the printing at the bottom of the folded page indicating the frame was sized four by six and cost nine-ninety-five. God damn. She had kept the picture that came with the frame to show Timothy his “father.” What kind of woman was this?

There was no sign a man lived there, but Sydney had said she was a widow. She was definitely raising her boy alone. But why not display a real photo of Timmy’s father, her husband? For some reason, maybe because he couldn’t imagine a guy stupid enough to let Eve Star go, he’d bet she’d never been married.

First, she stripped and now this. She was hiding something. Maybe a great deal, and none of it good.

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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!

Blurb 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 the 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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Making her engine purr #MFRWHooks

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

Blurb:
One Woman Only, Book 2 of the Good Man series

As one of a set of triplets, Jonah Goodman has always stood out as the least academic—and the last one to take the world, or commitment, seriously. Thing is, that’s not really who he is. But who can he convince of that? Not his family, who see him as they always have. And maybe not his one love, the sweetheart he left behind in high school but with whom he is now sharing an erotic holiday. Will he get his second chance to prove to Kelly that he is a loving man who wants more than a sensual few days, but a real relationship with the woman he lost once and doesn’t want to lose again? With that chance and Kelly’s love, Jonah knows that a “good man” can become a better man.

Buy link:
Kindle Unlimited

Excerpt:
“A burger and fries, please.” Jonah had said the words, but in synch with someone else. Someone whose voice was slightly higher and a lot more feminine. He turned his head to the left and met the green gaze of the last person he wanted to see tonight. For an instant, the spit dried in his mouth and his eyes widened as his past slammed headfirst into his present. She was still the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen and his body responded with an immediate and aching erection.

Then she opened her mouth.

“Oh hell,” Kelly said. “It’s you.”

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Fate or luck? #MFRWHooks

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

Blurb:
Dr. Margaret Amis-Hollings, professor of women’s studies at a small New Jersey college, is a woman who confidently knows who she is and what she expects of life. Until she loses her teaching position and her well-ordered life gets turned upside down. Then, in a subtle stroke of whimsy, fate tosses her a gift in an historic home and property in Virginia.

Harboring visions of Gone With the Wind, she determines to use River Peace as a temporary reprieve from her troubles. Images of Tara quickly evaporate when she arrives to discover the reality of her inheritance, however.

River Peace has history, grace and style going for it. After only one night, Margaret discovers that it also has a ghost. She’s visited by a male spirit from the time of the War Between the States, who knows how to make a woman feel special. And very loved.

Aaron Belton meets Margaret when she first arrives in Virginia. He’s renowned for historic renovations on a multitude of properties, but he’s got a special place in his heart for River Peace. He and his family believe the property always should have belonged to them. In fact, Aaron will do almost anything to make that happen. When his passion for the house changes to a passion for the house’s owner, Aaron’s as surprised as anyone. Can he gain both, the woman and the house? To do so, he’ll have to face a spectral being.

And his own destiny.

Buy link:
Kindle Unlimited

Excerpt:
Among the standard collegiate notices and envelopes, she found two official-looking envelopes. Both had been signed for by the department secretary. Using her letter opener, she cut a slit along the flap of the larger brown envelope marked Personal and Confidential.

The letter she pulled out was notification that the papers making her divorce from Jackson Hollings final and official—sanctioned and approved by the state of New Jersey—were ready for her to sign.

Funny, she had just commented to him a few minutes ago that the papers were due any day, and they had been sitting in her briefcase, waiting for discovery.

Although she had initiated the proceedings and had fully expected the paperwork, actually seeing the words in black and white caused her stomach to drop and tears to come to her eyes. For six years she and Jackson had shared their lives. But for her eye-opening visit to his office one afternoon last fall they might still be. He was basically a good man, although not a particularly faithful one, and at one time she had loved him fiercely. But now she needed to move on with her life.

She put the letter aside and picked up the second envelope. It was addressed using her full name. Very formal. She glanced at the return address: Ronald Gibson, Esquire, Palmyra, Virginia.

Wrinkling her brow, she tried to figure out who she knew in Virginia. She slid her thumb under the flap and slipped out the sheets of paper. Her eyes widened as she read that she had been named sole beneficiary in the will of one Maude Rawling. Margaret looked at the second page of the notification. She had apparently inherited an antebellum house, with all furnishings and one hundred fifty-three acres, in Virginia.

Images of Gone with the Wind sprung to mind. She pictured a large, columned home commanding an expanse of lawn edged with azaleas and magnolias, and a circular drive around which carriages drove to discharge hoop-skirted passengers. With a grin, she shook her head to dismiss the illusion.

Mr. Gibson urged her to contact him as soon as possible to discuss disposition of the property. Whether she planned to sell or live in the house, he advised, repairs had to be made. He recommended a contractor named Aaron Belton for the work, both for his expertise and knowledge of authentic reconstruction. Margaret reread the letter, wondering who Maude Rawling was, and why Maude would leave anything to her. She almost wished Jackson had come over after all, to sort through this with her.

Picking up the phone, she dialed her mother.

Patricia Ackerman, a vivacious, beautiful woman, was a most unconventional mother. Only eighteen years older than Margaret, she had just turned fifty-one at the end of the previous month. Married three times, although never to Margaret’s father, Patricia had shared their various homes with several lovers. Living what she laughingly called an eclectic lifestyle, she’d built up quite a large bank account, as well as a strong network of friends. Although she was currently unmarried, even now she had a man firmly in the palm of her hand, and Margaret fully expected to be invited to another wedding in the near future.

When she promised to love Jackson until death, Margaret had tried to keep the specter of her mother’s love life out of mind. Then, after the separation, she had hoped more than anything that the inability to have a truly loving relationship wasn’t a part of her genetic makeup. Or at least that the inability to find a true man wasn’t. But she somehow thought it was. She’d never had a relationship last. Jackson had been it, the longest, the one she’d committed to, and still she’d been disappointed in love.

About Dee:
A few years ago, Dee S. Knight began writing, making getting up in the morning fun. During the day, her characters killed people, fell in love, became drunk with power, or sober with responsibility. And they had sex, lots of sex.

After a while, Dee split her personality into thirds. She writes as Anne Krist for sweeter romances, and Jenna Stewart for ménage and shifter stories. All three of her personas are found on the Nomad Authors website (www.nomadauthors.com). Fortunately, Dee’s high school sweetheart is the love of her life and husband to all three ladies! Once a month, look for Dee’s Charity Sunday blog posts, where your comment can support a selected charity.

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Naughty teacher! #MFRWHooks

Only a Good Man Will Do This is a blog hop. Be sure to check the link at the bottom to see posts from other authors!
Blurb:
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:
Amazon KU: https://amzn.to/2q7ovi4

Excerpt:
Daniel stood. “Shall we talk in the kitchen?” The woman sighed, but led the way.

“I feel so awful for that boy,” she started, lifting the coffee pot and raising her brows at Daniel.

“No, thanks.” Daniel leaned against the counter and stared at the woman. With only the light over the stove casting a glow, her hair shone like an auburn halo. Her head bowed to blow on the hot liquid in her cup. Full, round breasts rose and fell with each breath, tempting him to touch. Her narrow waist and curvy hips were pure sin and there wasn’t anything he wanted to do more than press her against him and explore every curve. He’d never get the chance, considering how tangled she was with Michael Haynes and The Bare Moose.

“Feeling awful. Is that how you happened to put both him and yourself at risk by becoming involved with him?”

Her head snapped up, and eyes he’d fantasized glazed with lust a brief moment ago now flared with fire. “We’re not involved. He said it, we’re friends. My—” she stopped, looked away, took a breath, looked back, “—my son, Timmy, and I were in the park by the river one Sunday last June. I was painting. Michael stopped to talk. We saw him several times in the park after that. I didn’t see any harm.”

“Didn’t see any harm? The boy’s infatuated with you, couldn’t you tell? Besides, The Bare Moose is a long way from the river.” Fifteen miles from the park, light years from Westover Academy.

She lifted one shoulder and let it drop. “One Sunday I took a picnic and Michael joined us. He always seemed so alone. When he asked if I knew how to cook pot roast and I said of course, he looked … I don’t know, wistful. So I asked if his parents would mind if he came to my house for supper the following week, and he assured me they wouldn’t. I didn’t think it was all that wrong. Until the school year started, I didn’t know he attended Westover and he hasn’t visited here since then. He’s never been inside the tavern, and I certainly don’t give him alcohol.” Her eyes flashed again. “I promise you, we don’t engage in anything racier than passing the mashed potatoes or cutting hair.”

Daniel frowned. “Cutting hair?”

“Yes. I thought he looked a little shaggy one day, so I cut his hair. Look, he plays with Timmy and tells me jokes and stories. I teach him art. We’re company for each other. There’s nothing more to it.”

Daniel hadn’t gotten past Eve’s cutting Michael’s hair. He could feel her fingers raking through his own hair, skimming his scalp, skating the tips of his ears. His cock rose, hard and throbbing, not caring that he and Eve were strangers and that impressionable children were mere feet away.

“So, you were a dancer?” She blushed, and the certainty of what caused the blush made his dick ache even more. He’d bet the tassels on his mom’s old pasties that he knew exactly what kind of “dancer” Eve Star was.

Evening Star. He could picture what her costume looked like. Battery-powered star headdress to illuminate her path to the center pole, silver lamé cape sailing behind like the tail of a comet, shimmering bra, panties and high, high heels that showed off her sexy-as-hell legs. He’d bet she made every man in the room salivate and want to become an astronomer so they could examine her heavenly body up close. Just like Daniel wanted to do right then. The kitchen counter was just the right height to…

He shook his head to clear the image of taking her on her spotless kitchen counter.

“Dancing’s behind me. I run the tavern now.”

At least she can do that with her clothes on.

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More magic! #MFRWHooks

Blurb:
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

Excerpt:
“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?”

Do you believe? #MFRWHooks #MFRWauthor

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

Blurb:

When Margaret Amis-Hollings inherits an old house in Virginia, she never suspects she’d be sharing it with a very loving ghost. Or that her interest would be divided between her spirit lover and the very live man who’s renovating the place. Suddenly her life is intertwined with a soldier from a previous century and with his descendant, Aaron, who has a secret concerning her home. Is it coincidence or the power of a past love that makes her want to share her life—as well as her destiny—with Aaron?

Buy link:

Excerpt:

“What do you mean I’m being cut?” Dr. Margaret Amis-Hollings, professor of women’s studies in the sociology department at Hardis College, shot out of her chair and stared at the dean, Sally Smith, who remained seated.

“Calm down, Margaret.”

“Calm down? Calm down? You just told me that I’ve lost my job.” Pacing, she raked her hand through the tangle of auburn hair that never seemed to stay contained in barrettes. A million things went through her mind, not the least of which was how she would make her rent, her car payment, buy food.

“Oh my God, how am I going to live?” Collapsing in the chair she’d just vaulted out of, she turned to face her friend and boss. Her expression was half despair, half anger, all shock.

“I’m so sorry, Margaret. The board has ordered more budget cuts. It hasn’t been easy. You know how we’ve had to scrimp for the past few years. Now we even have to cull courses we think aren’t serving the full interests of the students.”

“But—but…” Tears choking her throat, she couldn’t at first finish her sentence. “But the women’s studies classes? They’re vital.”

In fact, she had thought the reason for meeting with Sally was to discuss the addition of a new offering: Women Villains. She’d been so proud of the catchy and intriguing title and even had the hook for the course description. “What makes ‘Jane the Ripper,’ and how do her contributing factors differ from Jack’s?” She’d anticipated sharing the materials she’d already prepared, and hearing Sally’s happy response when she revealed the number of students who’d already indicated an interest.

She’d planned for questions of course, but anticipated support and excitement from Sally. The last thing she imagined was being let go.

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Daryl Devore’s newest, Two Truths and a Lie, won’t disappoint!

New! Two Truths and a Lie.
From Daryl Devoré, so you know it’s going to be good. And HOT!

Blurb and Buy Links –
From the author of the Two Hearts One Love Trilogy, multi-published, hot romance author Daryl Devoré’s latest book revolves around deceit, betrayal, passion and the theft of a multi-million-dollar, rare, red diamond.

As if multiple planes crashes, a car accident, and a concussion isn’t enough, carefree Byn and straight-laced billionaire, Mark clash over Byn’s need for independence and Mark’s struggle with guilt pushing him in the opposite direction of love. When an art forger, an art thief and a ninety-five-year-old woman get involved the chance for true love for Byn and Mark fades.

All is lost until a children’s game is their only hope.

D2D – links to Kobo, Apple, Barnes&Noble etc.

Print Book link available soon.

Pinterest – Two Truths and a Lie

Excerpt
“What are you doing there? Come here!”

I wheeled around. A short, rotund man in a tuxedo stood at the head of the hallway. He had an aristocratic annoyed look on his face.
There was little else I could do, so, I did the stammering bit again. “I… uh… I…”

“Come! Here!”

Perfect.

I stifled a smirk and let my bottom lip tremble, then I added a sniff and even managed a bit of tear, which I swiped at. I peeked up. He hadn’t moved but was beginning to turn a lovely shade of red. I took two stumbling steps toward him.

He stood taller, but it didn’t help. He still only came to my shoulder. “I expect you have a plausible reason for being in the hall. As you can see my guests are here in this room. There was no one in the hall.”

I was, you pompous idiot.

I dipped in a small curtsey, just playing up to his pompousness. “Mr. Chapman told me to take a drink to the office.”

“My office?”

I, simultaneously, shrugged and nodded. And for effect, I sniffed.

Like I know who the hell you are. You short, little twit.

“Why would he send you to deliver a drink that I didn’t order?”

I repeated my shrug. Alfred Lord Tennyson said it best in the Charge of the Light Brigade―Ours is not to reason why. Hmm, I’m get all British-y.

Mr. Chapman appeared at my side.

Thank heaven for little miracles.

“Ah, Lord Middleton. I was looking for you. There… seems to be a bit of a… problem in your office.”

The pompous idiot, also known as Lord Middleton, brushed past me, entered his office, disappeared for―at most―three Mississippis then burst out of the room. He placed himself toe to toe with me.

Because eyeball to eyeball wasn’t possible. I stifled a snicker.

His brow darkened. “Where is the diamond?”

Innocent look pasted on face, reply ready. “What diamond?” Brilliantly played.

“The safe was closed when I left my office. You did this. You had no right to be in there.” He jerked his cell phone from an inside pocket. “I am calling the police.”

He played right into my plan. I reacted like an overly dramatic, silent movie star. I raised my hands in horror, which tossed the whiskey down the front of Lord Pompous Idiot. I dropped the tray. It couldn’t make a dramatic crash as the hallway was carpeted. Darn. Then I edged myself back against the wall and cowered like a frightened animal.

The next few minutes were hysterical chaos as both men snapped questions at me. I dug deep and pulled up some tears and let them stream down my cheeks as I repeatedly mumbled, “I didn’t do anything. I didn’t take anything.”

But there was a fabulous Hallmark flash. A man stepped into the hallway, curiosity etched on his face. It was him―Lover Boy. He was tall, dark-haired, and scruffy or unshaven if you prefer. His tuxedo fit him like a second skin. There was no rotundness like Lord Idiot or knock-off anything like Mr. Chapman. The man was pure sophistication. Out of the hundred or so guests, he was the only one who had smiled at me when he requested a drink. That made him human and not an arrogant robotron. And that made him sexy.

Two Truths and a Lie by Daryl Devore

Meet the author of Two Truths and A Lie – Daryl Devoré
Q: Can you tell us a little bit about yourself?
A: Let’s start with I’m female. My name – Daryl – is both a male and a female name. If it is pronounced rhyming with Karl – then it is the female version. The male version rhymes with Carol.

I live in Eastern Ontario, Canada in a 175 yr old farm house.

I write under two pens names – Daryl Devoré writes hot romance and Victoria Adams writes sweet romance. Although, I am about to fade out Victoria and meld her into Devoré. Having 2 pens names is tiring.
Just an add on – Daryl is my real first name. When I was trying to pick a pen name, the writer’s group I belong too said – keep your first name.

Q: Do you have a hobby?
A: I’m a belly dancer and a yoga addict. I study Raks Sharqi belly dance which is the more traditional type. A belly dancer is not a stripper and they did not dance to seduce the sultans – that’s Hollywood. Anybody can learn Rak Sharqi. It’s a fabulous activity.

Yoga – the studio where I practise has so many classes that it would probably be better if I just moved in. I love Warm Yin and Wall Yoga. I’ve tried all sorts of different classes from Hatha to Power Yoga. I love the way I feel when I leave class- open to the world, my heart is lighter, my mood is brighter. Yoga is my drug.

Q: If you could go back, is there any aspect of your novel you would change?
A: No – the book is the book. It’s done. The story is written and that is that. A person could go back and fix something to death. There will always be someone who disagrees with something in the books or wonders why they character didn’t react a certain way, but you can’t fix the book for them. What about all the people who thought the book was fine? If I were to change parts then those people might not be happy.

So I circle back to the beginning – would I change anything – no – the book is the book.

Q: Can you tell us about your upcoming books?
A: I just finished medieval fantasy that has been sitting on my hard drive for a couple of years. There are dragons and a prince and a woman with a dark secret.

Q: Is anything in your books ever based on real life experiences or purely all imagination?
A: That depends on which pen name I am using.

Daryl Devoré – purely imagination. I’ve written a few billionaire stories – sadly, I don’t know any billionaires. From my medieval fantasy romance – happily, I don’t know any dragons. But having one as a pet might be kinda cool.

Victoria Adams generally writes contemporary stories – although I’m in the middle of a time travel one. The characters in those books are composites of people I know and the places are based on locations I have lived or visited. The prep school in Dancing in Circles is based on my high school and the main character is adapted from the guy who sat in front of me in English class.

Q: Do you have any advice to give to aspiring writers?
A: Don’t get bogged down by the rules of writing. People will pontificate on the silliest things. Like – you should never use the word “as” in a book. It marks you as a weak writer. PTHTHTHTH – I say to them. If the greats authors of old used the word “as” then you can to. And no, you aren’t Jane Austin or Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, but at one point – neither were they.

I have a motto – Picasso wasn’t always Picasso. At one point, he was just a guy name Pablo painting weird pictures.

So, go write your book.

Q: Is there anything special that you would like to say to your readers?
A: If you read a book, pul-l-l-lease leave a review. It doesn’t have to be a 10-page review. This isn’t an English assignment. Let me give you a few examples
A – I liked the book. It was great.
B – I fell in love with the characters in this book.
C – This book grabbed me by the heartstrings.
D – I couldn’t put it down. Read it all in one night.
Or…my personal favourite
E – Daryl Devoré is the most fabulous writer ever and this is the bestest most romantic book that has ever been written and you should buy because it is so absolutely glorious.

Bio and Social Media Links –
Two writers in one. Daryl Devoré writes hot romances with sexy heroes and strong heroines. Victoria Adams is Daryl’s alter ego when she’s inspired to write sweet romances with little to no heat.

Daryl (@daryldevore) lives in an old farmhouse in Ontario, Canada, with her husband, two black cats – Licorice and Ginny-Furr Purrkins – and some house ghosts. Her daughter is grown and has flown the nest. Daryl loves to take long walks on her quiet country road or snowshoe across the back acres, and in the summer, kayak along the St. Lawrence River. She has touched a moon rock, a mammoth, and a meteorite. She’s been deep in the ocean in a submarine, flown high over Niagara Falls in a helicopter, and used the ladies room in a royal palace. Life’s an adventure and Daryl’s having fun living it.

Blog – Romance – Sweet to Heat
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Fantasy and magic are the key #MFRWHooks

This 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

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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