Cassie Scot Mystery Series Tour #GF_CassieScot

I would like to welcome Christine Amsden to my blog today. She's here to tell you about her Cassie Scot Mystery Series with a post, excerpt and giveaway! She will be awarding a $50 Amazon or BN GC to one randomly selected commenter.

The hardest part about writing is…

Letting a story go. I'm working on a spin-off sequel to the Cassie Scot series right now – the one for her friend, Madison. The rough draft is finished, but it needs a lot of work. I just heard back from a critiquer whose insights will help me make the story what it needs to be so at the moment I don't have a terrible rough draft. I have a world of possibilities.

At some point in the life of every story, you have to decide it's done. Not that it's perfect – there's no such thing – but that it's done. Your story remains open to scrutiny and critique, only now it's a fixed point. Immutable. With luck, many will love it, but even if they do there will always be a point in the future when you wish you could just go back and tweak this one little thing here.

Letting go is a transition from what may be to what is. And that is the hardest part about writing for me.

Cassie Scot is the ungifted daughter of powerful sorcerers, born between worlds but belonging to neither. At 21, all she wants is to find a place for herself, but earning a living as a private investigator in the shadow of her family’s reputation isn’t easy. When she is pulled into a paranormal investigation, and tempted by a powerful and handsome sorcerer, she will have to decide where she truly belongs.

Cassie Scot, still stinging from her parents’ betrayal, wants out of the magical world. But it isn’t letting her go. Her family is falling apart and despite everything, it looks like she may be the only one who can save them.

To complicate matters, Cassie owes Evan her life, making it difficult for her to deny him anything he really wants. And he wants her. Sparks fly when they team up to find two girls missing from summer camp, but long-buried secrets may ruin their hopes for happiness.

Excerpt ~ Book One

My parents think the longer the name, the more powerful the sorcerer, so they named me Cassandra Morgan Ursula Margaret Scot. You can call me Cassie.

I've been called a lot of things in my life: normal, ordinary, and even a disappointment. After the Harry Potter books came out, a couple of people called me a squib. Since I haven't read them, I have to assume it's a compliment.

Personally, I prefer normal, which is why the sign on my office door reads: Cassie Scot, Normal Detective.

You have to understand that around here, when your last name is Scot, people are easily confused. Not only are my parents powerful practitioners, but I have six talented brothers and sisters. Plus, my family hasn't always been known for its subtlety. When weird stuff happens around here, the people who are willing to believe in magic are prone to suspect the Scots.

The day I opened for business I got a call from an old woman who swore her cat was possessed by the devil. She also swore she'd read my web site, which clearly stated the types of work I did and did not do. Exorcisms were on the No list, and while I hadn't specified pet exorcisms, I would have thought it was implicit.

~*~*~

Award-winning author Christine Amsden has written stories since she was eight, always with a touch of the strange or unusual. She became a “serious” writer in 2003, after attending a boot camp with Orson Scott Card. She finished Touch of Fate shortly afterward, then penned The Immortality Virus, which won two awards. Expect many more titles by this up-and-coming author.

Website: http://christineamsden.com/wordpress/
Blog: http://christineamsden.com/wordpress/?page_id=200
Twitter: https://twitter.com/ChristineAmsden
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Christine-Amsden-Author-Page/127673027288664?ref=hl
Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/1030664.Christine_Amsden
Google+ https://plus.google.com/u/0/117845642477854934607/posts

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Mistletoe Madness Blog Hop #win

Welcome to my post for the Mistletoe Madness Blog Hop! 

I'm celebrating the hop with a short excerpt from my new release, After Midnight. Here's what it's about and where you can find it! 

 Excerpt from After Midnight:


“I’m not the type of woman men fall for.”

“I’ve fallen for you.”

Heat flooded her system. She forced herself to breathe, to keep her eyes locked with his. “No you haven’t. You …”

He pushed off the mantel and stepped in her direction. “I, what?”

“Never mind.”

“Finish the sentence, Isabeau.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Then let me.” He closed the distance between them. “You were going to say I haven’t fallen for you, weren’t you? You actually believe him? That you’re nothing more to me than convenient?”

Her pulse throbbed thick and hard. Heat radiated off his body. The scent of him filled her head. She wanted, more than anything, to press herself against him and relive the pleasure of his mouth against hers. Instead, she lifted her chin. “Maybe.”

He leaned in close. So close his breath brushed across her lips. “You believe him, but not me?”

“You are here only temporarily.”

“Yes.”

“And I am just down the street.”

“I suppose.” She ran her tongue over her dry lips.

“So the whole thing does seem rather—”

“Don’t say it.”

“—convenient.”

Something dangerous came and went in his eyes. “Now I’m getting angry.”

His hands skimmed down her sides, slipped under her shirt and settled on her lace-covered bottom. Her breath went uneven. Searing need swarmed her.

“You want something to believe, believe this.” He pulled her into the solid ridge of his erection. She lost her concentration. “There is nothing convenient about the way I feel about you.”

“I…no?”

“You think you’re not the type to draw a man’s attention, think again. I can’t stand in the same room as you without wanting to taste you. I can’t taste you without wanting to taste all of you.”

Oh, God. Her knees turned to jelly. A hot, wet pulse came to life between her legs.

“If you can’t see in yourself what it is that I see, feel what you do to me.” Taking hold of her wrist, he placed her hand in the center of his chest.

His heart was racing. She tipped her head back and looked into his eyes. Her bones began to liquefy.

“The way you’re looking at me,” she whispered.

“How am I looking at you?”

“Like I’m important.”

“You are.”

She swallowed hard, wanting to believe him. “Like I’m beautiful.”

His lips brushed across her temple and her eyes drifted shut. “I wish you could see yourself the way I see you. Then you would know how beautiful you are.”

Her eyes snapped open as he spun her in his arms. His hands settled on her shoulders, drawing her back against his chest. She gasped at their image reflected in the trio of mirrors that hung on her wall. When had this become a seduction?

"Hot and sweet, with suspense that'll keep you guessing!"

~Laura Kaye on After Midnight 

About After Midnight:

Can music heal the fractured soul? Or will it tear them apart forever? 

Thirteen years — that's how long Isabeau Montgomery has been living a lie. After an automobile accident took her mother's life, Izzy hid herself away, surviving the only way she knew how. Now she is happy in her carefully reconstructed life. That is until he walks through the door of her bar...

Black Phoenix singer/front man Noah Clark came to Long Island City with a goal — one that doesn't include an instant, electric attraction to the dark-haired beauty behind the bar. Coaxing her into his bed won't be easy, but he can't get her pale, haunted eyes nor her skill on the piano out of his head.

Can Noah help Isabeau overcome the past? Or will her need to protect her secret force her back into hiding and destroy their chance at happiness?

Buy at

Amazon | Amazon.ca | Amazon.uk | Kobo | B and N

For visiting with me today I am giving away:

$5 Amazon or B and N Gift Card
A Music Note Ornament

Thanks for stopping by!

And Don't forget to visit the main hop page to enter the Rafflecopter Giveaway! http://pjschnyder.com/blog/contests/



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Welcome Guest Blogger Patricia Rosemoor

Holiday Memories

Authors draw on their own experiences, their memories, their desire to give their stories an authentic edge.

Not that I’ve ever run across a dead Santa Claus as does my heroine in HOLIDAY IN CRIMSON...

Crawling around to see what had tripped her, Shelby froze, the breath caught in her throat.
“Oh, Lord!” she croaked hoarsely, unwilling to believe her eyes. For before her, the Christmas lights danced across a ludicrous scene: Santa Claus lay sprawled on his back next to her, eyes open and staring, mouth slack behind the fake beard and mustache. “Hey, Santa, wake up.” 

But of course, Santa doesn’t...

So what about HOLIDAY IN CRIMSON comes from my own experiences?

As a child, I used to look forward to the day when Mom would take me to downtown Chicago to see the holiday windows. My favorites were always windows at the iconic Marshall Field’s, a department store that took up a whole block on State Street. The windows always told a story that captivated me. So in wanting to tell a holiday story, I immediately thought about a department store and a heroine who was in charge of the windows.

That isn’t the only thing about Shelby that comes from my past memories. Shelby lived in my first apartment in the city. Her love of the holiday came from me. She buys one special new ornament each year, so that she has a tree of memories. I used to do that with my husband Edward until a few years ago when I stopped having trees. Now I have lights and wreathes and special ornaments that I hang in the windows.

A really special memory is the scene where Shelby and Rand get to know each other better while cross-country skiing. That was taken from my own experience. Neither Edward nor I had ever been on cross-country skis before. But that year, they did indeed rent them out in Lincoln Park, and we had a huge snowfall. We were terrible at it. I kept breaking through the snow crust and getting stuck with a ski two feet below the surface. I remember having to take off the ski and let Edward help me get it back on. It was an exhausting day. And a magical one. And I had great fun using it in this story.

What makes Christmas magic for you?
Share a holiday memory...

With 95 novels and 7 million books in print, New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Patricia Rosemoor is fascinated with "dangerous love" – combining romance with danger. She has won a Golden Heart from Romance Writers of America and two Reviewers Choice and two Career Achievement Awards from RT BOOKreviews, and in her other life, she teaches Popular Fiction and Suspense-Thriller Writing, credit courses at Columbia College Chicago.

You’ll find Patricia at   Website | Twitter | Facebook | Goodreads

 

In Holiday in Crimson

Westbrook Department Store’s Christmas party wasn’t that wild–but Santa ended up dead! Window designer Shelby Corbin suddenly finds herself the prime suspect in his murder. CEO Rand McNabb’s romantic attentions both thrill her and frighten her. Is Westbrook’s impossibly sexy co-owner really helping Shelby search for the truth about that fatal night? Or does Rand have a deadlier motive for courting the only possible witness to the crime…

In Nightmare in Crimson

Last holiday, Pippa McNabb’s faithless husband was found murdered in a Santa suit after a Christmas party. Another year, another Christmas party, and another dead Santa – this time, run down by eight tiny reindeer and a sleigh. And this time, Pippa is the prime suspect. Sexy sleigh driver Sky Thornton seems intent on helping her, but is the man who knows too much about her really trying to clear her name, or is he trying to frame her for a murder he committed?

Amazon | Barnes and Noble | Kobo Books | iTunes

 a Rafflecopter giveaway

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Character Quickie: Einstein Senta Augustus Sinclair

20 quickie facts about Einstein Senta Augustus Sinclair: 

Birthday? Not sure. I consider it the day my mistress, Becca Sinclair, brought me home two years ago.
Favorite color? Tan…the color of doggie treats.
Nickname? Bad Dog.
What breed are you? I’m a purebred German shepherd.
Have you been neutered? (Slaps paw over eyes) Yes, it was the worst experience of my life! (Shows one dark eye) Psych! Fooled ya! I was totally out of it, so it was no biggie.
City of residence? Clearwater Beach, Florida
If you were a jelly bean flavor, what flavor would you be? Pepperoni
Occupation? Taking care of Becca.
Hobbies? Getting in her underwear drawer and stealing her thongs.
Favorite song? “Who Let the Dogs Out”
Name one item in your freezer right now? Doggie ice cream treats.
Your greatest fear? Traffic. It can be a bitch.
Most treasured possession? My mistress. She knows how to take care of a dog—love, food, water, exercise, daily grooming—did I mention love?
Special talent? Getting Wolf’s attention by giving him a pair of Becca’s thongs.
Cat or dog? Huh? You’re asking me that? Wolf’s got a cat. (growls deep in throat) Fluffy. (pardon me while I get the taste of the critter’s name out of my mouth. Leans down and licks balls).
Pet peeve? People who don’t love their pets the way I’ve been loved.
Unforgettable moment? The day Wolf carried Becca into our house after she’d broken her nose. I knew then he’d be our alpha.
Dry or canned food? Dry, with canned as a treat.
Favorite guilty pleasure? Pepperoni off Wolf’s pizza. Becca pretends not to notice when he slips me a slice or four.
If you could ask your author one question, what would it be? If she’s going to write a sequel with Cassie and Quinn, will I be in it too?

Einstein is a secondary character in Vonnie Davis's humorous new release, SANTA WORE LEATHERS

Santa Wore Leathers is available now:
AMAZON ~ http://bit.ly/SantaLeathers
BARNES and NOBLE ~ http://bit.ly/1846Aau

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Candra's Freedom by AJ Nuest

RELEASE ANNOUNCEMENT!

Candra's Freedom, Book II

The Golden Key Chronicles

Available NOW on Amazon

The key would unlock his future,

and the safety of his kingdom,

but he never imagined the sorceress

would unlock his heart...

Lost in a world she doesn't recognize, Rowena struggles to find her place. Yet her abilities with a blade and the loyalty of a fierce falcon don't discourage the heated advances of the handsome Prince Caedmon, and the connection between them seems much deeper than her troubled heart can recall.

If you are still in love with the Disney princes of your youth, and wish one would show up in your bedroom late at night, then you will love this breathtaking fantasy romance series from AJ Nuest!

~ * ~

 
Water rained down his body. His sodden shirt clung to each sharply defined muscle in his chest, his leather pants glued to the contours of his rigid thighs. Her heart tripped a beat at the magnitude of sheer, gritty determination forged in the scowl on his brow.

Prince Caedmon was a man on a mission. That was a nice idea for a change.

He finally made landfall, fisted his hands and increased his pace. A few trumpeters blew a half-hearted attempt at announcing his arrival, but their notes blurted like a fat man’s flatulence and faded listlessly in the air. Some people knelt, others remained standing, and several bobbed like apples in a rain barrel, unsure which action to take.

Another victory at denouncing their absurd rituals. Rowena chuckled under her breath. Bravo, sir. Well done.

He locked onto her and she grinned, even when his penetrating stare pierced her like an arrow and he clenched his scruffy jaw. The real icing on the cake would be if he ignored his father. But no, that would never happen. Even as the thought occurred, Prince Caedmon strode straight for King Austiere’s open arms.

Except…wait a second. He wasn’t heading for his father. He marched straight for her.

Oh no…

All the amusement fled her body. She glanced left, then right before meeting his formidable gaze a second time. Of course. Distracted by his gallant swim to shore, she’d forgotten. His dismissal of the pageantry didn’t have anything to do with defiance. He thought them still engaged.

She withdrew a step, but her shoulder blades bounced off the front of Marcelene's ample bosom. Dammit! Pressed inside the crowd, no other escape route was available. And time was quickly running out. Her pulse leapt and her fingertips tingled as if she'd touched Fandorn's lightning catcher. She couldn't seem to draw any air. Great tits above, what was the man planning to do?

~ * ~

Praise for Rowena's Key,

Book I in The Golden Key Chronicles

Love Reading Romance calls Rowena's Key "an enchanting fairy tale for adults!"
Cosmochicklitan says Rowena's Key is a "must read!"

The author slowly leads Rowena and Caedmon into love, so slowly and sweetly it's romantic and classic...and breathtaking. I cannot wait for the second installment of this series. 5 Stars

It was like watching a Cinderella story come to life. Or living one. 5 Stars

Like the best fairy tales, Rowena’s Key captures the imagination and the heart with a bonus undercurrent of spicy romance. 5 Stars

With all the components of a star crossed lovers story, Rowena's Key is a genuine Romance. A.J. Nuest pulls the reader into fantasy alongside Rowena with a realness that will have you hopeful, teary eyed and longing for the next installment. 5 Stars

You need to realize this is a novella, because you will get to the end of this story and be desperate for more. Thankfully, HarperImpulse is releasing each novella in this series in month by month installments, so we don’t have long to wait for the next development of Rowena and Caedmon’s fantasy romance. 5 Stars

The Golden Key Chronicles Release Schedule:

Rowena’s Key:  November 7, 2013
Candra’s Freedom: December 12, 2013
Caedmon’s Curse: January 9, 2014
Braedric’s Bane: February 13, 2014

AJ is a multi-published, award-winning author who lives in the middle of a cornfield in NW Indiana. Her loving husband, two beautiful children and a bevy of spoiled pets have agreed to stay and, in exchange for three rations per day and laundry service, tolerate her lunacy. While she spends most days happily ensconced in crafting romance across a multitude of genres, an underground coup has been percolating. The dogs just informed her the cat is secretly vying for dictatorship.

Website:  http://ajnuest.com

Blog:  http://ajbooks.blogspot.com
Email:  ajnuest@yahoo.com
FaceBook Page:  https://www.facebook.com/amyjo.nuest
Author FB Page:  https://www.facebook.com/amyjo.nuest#!/pages/Tattered-Pages/259835887466
Twitter:  @AJNuest

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Character Quickie: Richelle Quaid

20 quickie facts about Richelle Quaid: 

Birthday? July 20, 1873
Favorite color? Emerald green
Nickname? None I’ll respond to
Birthmark or scars? Scar across right knee
Siblings? Three older brothers
City of residence? Dry Creek, Montana
If you were a jelly bean flavor, what flavor would you be? Refreshing lemon
Occupation? Daughter of rancher
Hobbies? Attending suffrage lectures
Favorite song? “The Band Played On”
Name one item in your icebox right now. divinity
Your greatest fear? Living an uninspiring life
Most treasured possession? My copy of History of Woman’s Suffrage, Volume 1
Special talent? I’m an excellent bicyclist.
Cat or dog? Love kittens
Pet peeve? People who want me to act proper.
Unforgettable moment? Attending a lecture presented by Susan B. Anthony
Spicy or not? not
Favorite guilty pleasure? Reading adventure tales by James Fenimore Cooper
If you could ask your author one question, what would it be? Why did you place me in such a small town with none sympathetic to women’s suffrage? 

Richelle is the heroine of Wishes On A Star, included in Sweetwater Springs Christmas, a western historical anthology by 11 authors.  

Sweetwater Springs Christmas is available now at AMAZON: http://amzn.com/B00G06W3SA




 

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Writer Wednesday: Vonnie Davis

Thanks for having me here today, Sarah. Someone recently asked me how I’d describe myself. I think I’m like a freshly baked French croissant: warm, crusty, wrinkled and flaky. Best served with strong coffee. My writing is often flaky, too. You know how I love to laugh, how I enjoy infusing humor into my stories. The world is too full of sadness, misery and snarky people. I adore kindness and laughter. While my characters aren’t always kind, they do have their humorous moments.

Writing humor isn’t always easy. What strikes me as hilarious might fly right over your head. I have an off-the-wall sense of humor that isn’t shared by everyone and that’s okay. We don’t all want to be alike, do we? I mean, imagine a world full of Vonnie Davis clones. Yikes!

So I have to use a light hand at writing humor. Sometimes, in editing, I tone it down a couple notches. I grew up in the era of slapstick comedy, so some scenes play out in my head like a comedy routine. Take my heroine’s carrying in a large box of ready-to-assemble bookshelves in my Christmas novella, Santa Wore Leathers.

She untied the rope securing her trunk lid over the long box and contemplated the best way to remove the carton and get it inside to her living room. How difficult could it be? She wrapped an arm around the box and pulled, hoping to hug it to her side.
It barely budged. Crap!

Shoving the sleeves of her sweatshirt to her elbows, she put every ounce of strength into the job. She tugged and pulled enough of the carton out of the trunk to allow gravity to upend it onto the street. Then she straightened, shifted her shoulders and used her sleeve to swipe the perspiration from her forehead.

She bent at the knees, put her shoulder to it and lifted the heavy item on an exhale and a loud grunt. Becca staggered under the weight across her shoulder. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. The unmanageable carton weaved her back and forth. For a few seconds, all she could do was stagger.

She made it up the step of the curb to the sidewalk, nearly dropping to her knees with the effort. Thigh muscles quivering with the strain of the weight, she gritted her teeth. “Come on, Becca, you can do this.”

Thank goodness the walkway was only twelve feet long. She tried not to think of the three steps to her porch. Maybe she could drag or push the box up the steps—if she reached them under all this weight.

A loud rumble roared down the street, and her stomach clenched at the familiar sound. Wolf’s Harley eased to the curb.

“Becca! Don’t. I’ll carry that in for you.”

She pivoted to tell him she didn’t need or want his help. The sudden movement threw her load off balance. Arms clasped around the box, she fell backwards and her spine slammed on the hard ground. Air whooshed from her lungs on impact. A loud pop sounded as the box thudded across her face. Pain exploded in her nose and head.

“Becca! My God.” A set of thick male knees pushed into her side. “Here, let me get this off you.” Wolf shoved the box away as if it were no heavier than a bag of tinsel. “Give me a chance to get this helmet off.” Leather rustled and squeaked.

Wet warmth flowed over her lips.

“Oh, sweetheart, looks like your nose is broken.” Strong fingers moved from the bridge of her nose to its tip. The pain made her eyes cross. “Hold on. Let me get my first-aid kit.”

His heat disappeared and running footfalls sounded on his porch. Slowly the spinning stopped, and she blinked to bring the world back into focus. Was her face smashed? She gingerly fingered her forehead, nose and cheeks and grimaced when she pulled back a blood-covered hand.

Einstein was barking like crazy from inside her town house. Bless his canine heart, he knew she needed him.

Wolf settled on his knees beside her again. “Some people bleed more than others when their noses break. Don’t be alarmed.” His voice was calm and authoritative as he snapped on latex gloves. Cool alcohol wipes were gently pressed across her face.

“Ith my noth broken?” My God, was that her voice? Why was she speaking with a lisp?

He shined a light in her eyes. “Good retina response.” Chocolate eyes lowered to within inches of hers, minty breath swept across her face and a lock of dark hair fell across his forehead. The corners of his mouth twitched as if he were trying not to smile. “And, yes, sweetheart, your noth is broken. I’ll do my best to set it so it’s still pretty and straight.”

“Thet it? No!”

Einstein’s barking and whining increased. No doubt he sensed her anxiety.

Wolf gave a nonchalant shrug. “Set might be an extreme word. I’m just going to make sure it’s straight.”

“Are you two at it again?” Mrs. Minelli’s orthopedic shoes came into view. “Oh no! She’s bleeding! Shall I call an ambulance? I can press the button on my senior alert necklace.” She held out a medical medallion strung on a silver chain around her neck. Today, her sweatshirt bore a Christmas tree design with lights that somehow twinkled on and off.

“Thanks, Mrs. Minelli, but I’ve got it covered. I’ll stop the bleeding and carry her inside.”

“What happened?” The elderly woman tapped his side with her cane. “Did you belt her’ cause she wouldn’t get frisky with you?”

Wolf’s hands stilled and he exhaled an audible sigh fluttering the hair at Becca’s temple. His tension was palpable. Under his breath, he muttered, “God, just give me some frickin’ patience here.” Then he aimed his thousand watt smile at the older lady and told her what had happened.

“Well, okay then. I was just going to hitch a ride with Mrs. Bernstein to water aerobics. We broads need to keep our girlish figures. Becca, darlin’, I’ll check in on you tomorrow.”

“Thank you.” Her words trailed after the tottering old woman, her cane tapping as she meandered down the sidewalk.

Wolf’s fingertips firmly pressed into her nose and more stars exploded behind her eyes.

“Don’t touch my broken noth.” She batted away his hands.

“Do you want to be called ‘witch’s beak’ for the rest of your life?”

“Witheth beak? Ith it that bad?” What would her coworkers at the paper think? Still, did this yay-hoo know what he was doing? “If my noth needth thet, I want a profethenal to thet it.”

He tore open a paper packet and removed two gauze cylinders. “I had advanced corpsman training in the Navy before I was recommended for the SEALs. Believe me, I’ve handled worse than a broken nose.”

Wolf shoved the gauze up her nostrils.

More fireworks exploded in her head.

“Ow! You big thithead. You hurt me on purpoth.” Her one hand tightened in a fist. If he hurt her again, she was going to belt him.

Those brown eyes of his held humor. “Thithead? We hardly know each other well enough for such intimacies.” He smiled and tilted his head. “Although, I am getting pretty familiar with your taste in underwear. Einstein left a pair of purple thongs beside my ladder the day I fell off and leopard print thongs at my back door yesterday.”

“Oh, no,” she groaned. She’d never had trouble with her dog running off until this man moved in next door. She could see why a woman might chase after Wolf—an enticing blend of macho, good looks and an unexpected measure of gentleness—but why was her dog so damned attracted to him? And just why was her dog so suddenly set on stealing her underwear?

“What did you do with my thongs? You never brought them back.”

“Tied them to the handle grips of my Harley.” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder.

“You what!” She would kill him.

His head leaned back as deep laughter erupted. “Don’t get riled, sweetheart.” His eyes bore humor and something akin to affection.  

That damn box must have broken my mind.

“Thop calling me ‘threatheart.’”

“Can't.” His fingers were more gentle on her face now. “It's part of my plan. Maybe if I keep calling you sweetheart, you'll start getting sweet on me.”

“Cold day in hell, buthter.”  

BLURB FOR SANTA WORE LEATHERS:

There’s only one thing on Becca Sinclair’s Christmas list this holiday season – her very own column in the local paper. And if she can build a huge blog following, her wish just might come true.

Enter Dan “Wolf” Wolford aka the man-whore next door and the new star of Becca’s popular, post-divorce blog about men. A Navy SEAL turned commander of the Florida Marine Rescue Unit, Wolf’s the very definition of the word alpha – and with an endless rotation of women on his doorstep, this hunk on a Harley has Becca and her female followers all hot and bothered!

All Becca wants for Christmas is her newspaper column, right? But when she finds herself the target of Wolf’s irresistible attentions, her snarky comebacks become less and less convincing and, suddenly, she’s not so sure anymore…

BUY LINKS:

AMAZON ~ http://bit.ly/SantaLeathers
BARNES and NOBLE ~ http://bit.ly/1846Aau

Please visit me at my blog: http://www.vintagevonnie.blogspot.com
Or follow me on Facebook: Vonnie Davis.
I tweet under @VonnieWrites, if you care to follow me in the twitterverse.



Psst, Sarah here. Before you go I thought I would share with you one more photo Vonnie sent me. This one is how she imagines Wolf, hero of SANTA WORE LEATHERS, to look. And because I', all about sharing...well, here he is. You're welcome. ;)

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Welcome Guest Blogger, Inara Scott

Today I have contemporary romance author, Inara Scott visiting. Inara is touring for her new release, FALLING FOR MR WRONG and is sharing a little about her love of eBooks. She will also be giving away one eCopy of her book RULES OF NEGOTIATION and one eCopy of THE BOSS'S FAKE FIANCE so make sure to scroll down and enter the giveaway using the Rafflecopter link.


Why I love E-Books ~ Inara Scott


There are a lot of authors (and publishers) who aren’t fans of e-books. They worry that e-books will mean the end of traditional books. They don’t like holding a Kindle—they want real paper. You can’t autograph an e-book, they say. And don’t even get started on the piracy issues! Ug!

But here’s what I love about e-books. First, the market for new authors and new books has opened up exponentially in the past few years, thanks to e-books and self-publishing. When I go on Amazon to browse for a book, I’ve got thousands of options. If I read romance, I’m not limited to only the most popular authors and genres. I can find just about any kind of book or any kind of author, from male/male romance to historical romances set in just about any country or time period. I can find protagonists of any age and race. And no, they aren’t all good. There’s a lot of awful out there. But I’d rather a marketplace crowded with choice and varying quality than one in which a few publishers are the gatekeepers who decide what small number of books end up on the shelves every year.

E-books make novellas possible. Sometimes you don’t want an entire book, but you want more than a short story. With print publishing, you rarely had an opportunity to read these “almost” novels, because there wasn’t any good way to get them to readers. Now, every author is putting out shorter works between their novels, giving readers glimpses into the lives of secondary characters, or filling in the “what comes next?” questions for readers.

E-books give me an e-reader full of choices. With books at lower price points (yay $2.99!) I am more likely to take a chance on a new author or buy a book that hasn’t been a big bestseller. I can fill up my e-reader before a vacation and take fifteen or twenty new titles, instead of one or two. I can take a long bath and browse in a bookstore at the same time.

I still have shelves full of print books. They’re never going away, at least not for me. But I’m not one of those authors who fears digital books and the way they are changing publishing. If you ask me, the more the better.

Looking for Mrs. Right… 

Single father of three, Ross Bencher, knows the kind of woman he wants: someone predictable, reliable, and safe, who can give his kids the security they deserve. Someone entirely different from high-altitude mountaineer Kelsey. Kelsey bewitches him with her long legs and wild passion and is about as far from his ideal as a woman can get, but try telling that to his body. Or his heart… 

Falling for Mr. Wrong… 

When Kelsey agreed to fill in as a temporary nanny for her best friend’s agency before a big climbing expedition, she had no idea she’d be working for drop-dead sexy Ross Bencher, a man she can’t seem to keep her hands off. She knows if she wants to bring herself—and her father—back alive from the Himalayan Mountains, she can’t afford second-guessing, attachments, or distractions. But Ross’s blue eyes and strong hands leave her gasping…and questioning everything she’s ever known about love… 

Excerpt:

“Ross,” she said, swallowing hard to clear the lump from her throat. “I realize I’m not the traditional nanny, and I know I was your last choice for a babysitter. But I can’t do this anymore.”

His gaze flickered from her mouth to her throat.

Her bones began to melt. All at once, her skin seemed to tighten, and her stomach began to fall as her brain fogged over.

He shook his head. “You’re absolutely right. I can’t keep doing this, either.”

“What?” She narrowed her gaze suspiciously.

“Looking at you.” His voice dropped. “Staring at your lips. And wondering if they can possibly taste as good I remember.”

FALLING FOR MR WRONG
Genre: Contemporary
Romance Length: 200 pages
Release Date: November 2013
ISBN: 978-1-62266-289-0
Imprint: Indulgence

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