Posts Tagged ‘adult’

Mistle Text ~ ‘Twas The Text Before Christmas…………

Posted: September 27, 2021 in Adult Fiction, comedy, Contemporary Romance, giveaways, Holidays
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Mistle Text: ‘Twas the Text Before Christmas …
Whitney Dineen & Melanie Summers
(An Accidentally in Love Story, #5)
Publication date: September 25th 2021
Genres: Adult, Comedy, Contemporary, Holiday, Romance

Twas the text before Christmas…

Twenty-eight-year-old Holly Snow is the only mother her four-year-old niece remembers. Three years earlier, when her sister and brother-in-law were killed, Holly’s dream of becoming an international flight attendant was put on hold so she could be home for baby Faith. Holly is doing everything she can to keep the rent paid, including working as an online travel agent, filing medical claims, and cleaning apartments in her building. When her friend Maggie tells her that her boss needs someone to buy his Christmas gifts, she leaps at the opportunity.

Tall, dark and Scroogy, investment banker, Archibald Harrington is too busy to do his own Christmas shopping. When his assistant tells him she knows of a professional shopper, he happily checks another dreaded task off his holiday list. The last thing Archie is expecting is for his hired elf to text him insistently to find out more about the people on list. The last thing Holly expects is to develop feelings for grumpy man who’s stealing her Christmas spirit.

Will there be a Holiday miracle, or will Holly and Archie miss their chance at love? Find out in the fifth installment of the Accidentally in Love Series.

Goodreads / Amazon

~~~~~

Check out this peek inside:

“My boss needs a personal shopper for Christmas, and I’ve already told him I know the very best one in Manhattan.” Toni gives me an open-mouthed smile, clearly expecting me to jump up and down.

“Your boss. As in Archibald Snooty Pants the Forty-Second?” I ask, pursing my lips.

She opens her mouth, but I cut her off with one finger in the air. “You complain about the man all the time.”

“It’s not like he’s a horrible person, he’s just a one trick pony—all work and no play. Plus, it’s not like you’ll have to work side-by-side with him or anything. You probably won’t even have to see him.”

“I’m not a personal shopper,” I tell her. “Unless his family and friends want ramen noodles or discount t-shirts from the guy who sells them out of his trunk in front of my apartment building, I would have no idea what to buy.”

“Yeah, well, Archie doesn’t know that.” She pumps her eyebrows up and down like a comedian.

“Toni, you told me the guy was a rich stuck-up preppy from the Hamptons. While I would love nothing more than to make some extra money, I don’t have the foggiest notion how to shop for rich people.”

“So watch some holiday episodes of Real Housewives and see what they buy each other. He’ll tell you how much to spend on each person. Come on, Holl, it’s not brain surgery. It’s shopping. You know how to shop. And you need the money.”

“What if he hates me?” I despise feeling so pathetic, but I’m totally out of my league here.

“Then he hates you. So what? Believe me when I tell you, Archibald Harrington only thinks about work. You can’t take anything he says personally.”

Dread slams into me like a wrecking ball. “How much do you think I can make?”

“Enough to pay for Christmas and at least the next three months of Faith’s preschool tuition. How can you pass that up?”

The answer is, I can’t. And if it means working for a cranky billionaire, then Toni is right. I’ll do whatever I have to do in order to take care of Faith. I just can’t guarantee I’ll like it.

“Fine,” I tell her. “How many gifts am I supposed to buy?”

“He’ll need all of his family gifts, which include his godfather’s family. He’s spending Christmas with them in Newport. He wants you to cover his business gifts, as well. The VIPs are starred, meaning those particular gifts need to be extra-amazing. I’ve also made you a list of everything that I want, so I don’t wind up with another Monte Blanc pen. I’ve already sold three of those suckers on eBay and I only get a fraction of what they’re worth.”

“I don’t even know what a Monte Blanc pen is.” My chest tightens like I’m not getting enough oxygen.

She hands me a piece of paper. “This is a list of websites to check out. You can order everything and have it delivered here.”

“Why can’t I just have everything sent to his office? What am I going to do with it?”

After taking a healthy swig of white zinfandel, Toni says, “You’re going to wrap everything up and make it look like Santa himself cracked the whip on the gift-wrapping elves. Once you have everything purchased and ready, I’ll send a car to pick the gifts up.”

“You’ll send a car, will you?” I tease.

“Yeah, well, I can do those fancy things in the name of my boss.”

“How am I going to pay for everything?” I ask. “I have about two hundred dollars of credit left on my card. I don’t think that’s going to cut it.”

Toni opens her purse and hands me a shiny black credit card. “There’s no limit, so if you don’t mind doing a little jail time, you could have a lot of fun.”

“No limit? I can’t imagine such a thing.” I fantasize about what damage I could do with plastic like this. Not only could I pay for Faith’s school for the rest of the year, but I could also get my mom into one of those nursing homes that has a hair salon and restaurant. I could upgrade to a two-bedroom apartment so Faith doesn’t have to sleep in the closet anymore, and I could even splurge and buy myself some real leather gloves.

“You’re imagining, aren’t you?” Toni jolts me out of my daydream.

“I most certainly am. The first thing I’d do is buy Faith whatever winter coat she wanted and then I’d take her out to a nice restaurant.”

Toni rolls her eyes. “If you’re going down for a crime, you’ve got to think bigger.”

I stare at the card for a second, then look back up at Toni. “How can you stand working for someone who has so much? Don’t you just want to steal cash out of his wallet once in a while?” I don’t really have the heart of a felon, I’m just tired of always being broke.

“The nice thing about Archie is that even though he has the personality of a killer shark, he’s generous. He has a Friday lunch catered for his staff every week, and he makes sure to float us enough extras that none of us are tempted to steal from him. He’s a good businessman.”

“Even though he’s a stuck-up preppy?” I ask for clarification.

“Exactly.”

I look at the list of stores she thinks I should shop at—Tiffany’s, Saks Fifth Avenue, Harrods, The House of Bijan … “What’s my budget?”

She hands me another piece of paper. The handwriting isn’t hers, so I’m guessing it’s Archie’s. “He wants me to spend four thousand dollars on his mother?!”

“Yup. He wants her to have two gifts. One of them needs to be the main. The other can be fancy ass chocolates or something.”

“Right, but probably not gas station chocolates.”

“Quit stressing, Holls, you’ve got this.”

I don’t know why, but for the life of me I can’t see this ending well…

Author Bio:

Whitney loves to laugh, play with her kids, bake, and eat french fries — not always in that order.

Whitney is a multi-award-winning author of romcoms, non-fiction humor, and middle reader fiction. Basically, she writes whatever the voices in her head tell her to.

She lives in the beautiful Pacific Northwest with her husband, Jimmy, where they raise children, chickens, and organic vegetables.

Gold Medal winner at the International Readers’ Favorite Awards, 2017.

Silver medal winner at the International Readers’ Favorite Awards, 2015, 2016.

Finalist RONE Awards, 2016.

Finalist at the IRFA 2016, 2017.

Finalist at the Book Excellence Awards, 2017

Finalist Top Shelf Indie Book Awards, 2017

Author links:

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Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Twitter / Instagram

—

Melanie Summers also writes steamy romance as MJ Summers.

Melanie made a name for herself with her debut novel, Break in Two, a contemporary romance that cracked the Top 10 Paid on Amazon in both the UK and Canada, and the top 50 Paid in the USA. Her highly acclaimed Full Hearts Series was picked up by both Piatkus Entice (a division of Hachette UK) and HarperCollins Canada. Her first three books have been translated into Czech and Slovak by EuroMedia. Since 2013, she has written and published three novellas, and eight novels (of which seven have been published). She has sold over a quarter of a million books around the globe.

In her previous life (i.e. before having children), Melanie got her Bachelor of Science from the University of Alberta, then went on to work in the soul-sucking customer service industry for a large cellular network provider that shall remain nameless (unless you write her personally – then she’ll dish). On her days off, she took courses and studied to become a Chartered Mediator. That designation landed her a job at the R.C.M.P. as the Alternative Dispute Resolution Coordinator for ‘K’ Division. Having had enough of mediating arguments between gun-toting police officers, she decided it was much safer to have children so she could continue her study of conflict in a weapon-free environment (and one which doesn’t require makeup and/or nylons).

Melanie resides in Edmonton with her husband, three young children, and their adorable but neurotic one-eyed dog. When she’s not writing novels, Melanie loves reading (obviously), snuggling up on the couch with her family for movie night (which would not be complete without lots of popcorn and milkshakes), and long walks in the woods near her house. She also spends a lot more time thinking about doing yoga than actually doing yoga, which is why most of her photos are taken ‘from above’. She also loves shutting down restaurants with her girlfriends. Well, not literally shutting them down, like calling the health inspector or something–more like just staying until they turn the lights off.

She is represented by Suzanne Brandreth of The Cooke Agency International.

Author links:

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Dead Cat, Run by Annabelle Lewis ~ Excerpt And Giveaway

Posted: September 15, 2021 in Adult Fiction, giveaways, Mytery/Thriller
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6

Dead Cat, Run
Annabelle Lewis
Publication date: February 21st 2021
Genres: Adult, Mystery, Thriller

You’re where you’re meant to be. Run, if you can.

High school senior Jenny Gallagher’s psychic abilities have made life in her small New England town rocky. Her premonitions and déjà vu have given her a reputation, one she’s not happy with. Tragedy is about to strike, however, and oddly, this time, she doesn’t see it coming. Is her gift betraying her?

Not far from Jenny, Wellesley Professor Maximus Dyer also has a gift—a painful and useless one. His ability to see the past has brought him insight into history, but otherwise, he’s never known what to make of it. The psychic shocks he receives through his unprotected hands have made any genuine human relationships beyond his grasp. Then someone who doesn’t trigger a vision enters his life—a dog?

Sidrah Keeling runs determinedly optimistic throughout her life, trying hard not to ask the big questions about why. Her foresight, her ability to see glimpses of the future in her dreams, often drives her to follow a path she doesn’t understand. Alert and listening, with the guardrails of security she’s erected in place, she’s forced again to follow her dreams. This time to a man. Who is he?

Lurking deep in his sensory deprivation tank, Turner Black sees it all. Born out of the great chaos of time, he once again feels the forces of good gathering to move against him. Not in this life. This time, his darkness will reign supreme. The hunt for his antithesis will begin again now. He can’t wait to feel his opponent in destiny bleed.

A fast-paced contemporary mystery thriller with a supernatural hierarchy, Dead Cat, Run will keep you up all night, glued to your seat.

Goodreads / Amazon

~~~~~

Enjoy this peek inside:

Max humped his way through the Wellesley College campus center, yanking his backpack onto his shoulder when it began to slide. Hungry—no, scratch that, ravenous—he snarled in frustration that he couldn’t jump in line at the pizza stand and grab a slice. He’d need to wait until he got home. He frowned, remembering he had no ready food there either. As he rounded past the heavenly smells from the greasy Chinese buffet, someone called his name, and he slowed.

“Professor Dyer,” a girl said.

Inwardly, he rolled his eyes but stopped, forcing a look of tolerance onto his face. He didn’t recognize the student, but then, he usually didn’t. It was better to avoid eye contact with the nubile freshmen. Many young girls throughout his career had presumed there was something other than scholarly interest lurking there. He tried everything he could to discourage them.

Now, though, forced to a standstill in their territory, he could have almost predicted what would happen next. Once he stopped, not one, but several young, eager smiling faces peered up at him with their batting lashes and flirty looks. It was exhausting.

“What is it?” he practically barked.

“Oh, sorry,” the one who’d spoken said.

“Office hours are posted online,” he said roughly. Regrettably, he only saw looming interest and blushing cheeks. The heat rising around the group was practically tangible. He had to get out of there. He began walking away, but out of guilt, he turned his head back. “Make an appointment. I’ll speak to you then.”

Did he hear giggles? For God’s sake. Don’t look back again. He wondered for the thousandth time if working at a women’s liberal arts college was a bad idea.

He cleared the union without further intrusions and got out into the street. He put his head down as he walked across campus, then grabbed a beanie out of his coat pocket and shoved it on. No need to bother with the gloves. He wouldn’t be touching anyone.

Looking forward to getting home, he rounded the corner of a busy street near his parking lot and ran into a group of men in suits. His backpack fell to the ground, which caused some of his items to spill out. He cursed softly as one of the men knelt to help him retrieve his gear. But then, out of nowhere, a large reddish dog shot between them, grabbed a pair of his gloves, and took off.

“Hey!” Max stood and then ran after the dog. Not more than a few long strides later, the game of chase stopped. He stared with horror as the dog ran into the street, mindless of the oncoming traffic.

“No!” He threw up his hand and yelled. His heart in his mouth, he watched in slow motion as a car slammed into the dog. He dropped his pack on the sidewalk, ran into the street, and screamed at the traffic. Everywhere cars came to a screeching halt.

His pulse raced, tears choking him as he reached the dog, hesitating only a second before he laid his hands—uncovered—without thinking, onto the soft fur. The gloves the dog had been carrying lay near her front leg, which was bent at an odd angle. Blood, too, was coming from somewhere.

“My God,” Max cried. His hands, his uncovered hands, ran down the dog’s body—without receiving a vision. Marveling at the empty sensation, he gently touched the dog’s face. The beautiful beast looked at him and released a small, pitiful whimper. She licked Max’s hand softly and closed her eyes.

Max closed his eyes, and momentarily dropped his head back with the wonder of the moment before he regained his senses and began to scream at the driver, who had been hovering nearby. He gently stroked the dog, cooing to her with tender words. Where are her tags? Where had she come from?

The only answer he had was that no one nearby came running to claim her for their own. From that moment on, Max took charge, yelling instructions. He’d see that the dog got help. Nothing in the world was more important.

Author Annabelle Lewis:

Annabelle Lewis—a pseudonym for the author—lives in Minneapolis, Minnesota. Regrettably? Perhaps. She still believes she’s a Texan even though the math no longer supports that. Nor her birthplace. Nor her residence. No offense, Minnesota. You’ve got your good points too, but only about six months of the year.

In her youth, Annabelle was a complete failure. Ask anyone who knew her. Any of her teachers and family would tell you this. High school graduation was a sad day for all when Annabelle walked proudly off the high school stage, her thoughts consumed with boys, beer, and after-parties, and later into the arms of her parents. Her father’s laughter and singular remark? “I didn’t think you’d make it. Get a job at the post office, they have a good retirement plan.”

A high bar and words to live by, but Annabelle wanted more. She needed to flunk out of college too. But damn, she sure did have a good time. Trivial arrest records not-withstanding, it was a growth period for our girl. And if you look closely, you’ll see a bit of what was to come when she majored in criminal justice. Her lifelong aspiration was to become a judge. Hmm.

For better or worse, Annabelle didn’t graduate from college but did find gainful employment and a fulfilling career. This path ended when she became a mom. Married to her wonderful George, who to this day can hardly remember an actual proposal, Annabelle finally became a mother. She didn’t have a clue how hard she would need to work to keep those self-imposed requirements of Downey-fresh, iron-pressed sheets, home-baked meals, and mom-of-the-year awards arriving. She composed a small self-affirmation song and made her children sing it to her for money. She was a very good mom.

After clearing the largest hurdles of motherhood and regrettably, begrudgingly, and not-without-tears, launching her children onto the world, she looked around and realized she had a lot to say. Picking up a laptop, she got to work.

Annabelle spends her days continuing to tackle the challenges of motherhood, for both her humans and canines. She also writes. And reads. And cleans. And cooks. And bakes. And cleans again. She also supports her husband, George, in an administrative capacity for their small business. She’s in charge of payroll and cuts George’s checks. This leads to no marital acrimony.

In the beginning, with the blank page staring at her and possibly in a hostile mood after being literally mauled by a dog and by the world in general, she had an idea. What if she could wield a force of good upon unsuspecting evil-doers? What if she had the resources to get the job done without dealing with committee and anyone else’s whiney-ass opinions?

It was gold. It took off. Annabelle sat down and began to write and couldn’t stop. To date, having written over a million words in the Carrows Family Chronicles and her second series on the Boston Clairvoyants, several items have become quite clear. Annabelle had a lot to say. Annabelle really enjoys writing. And although she hates all things technology, she begrudgingly pounds her head on her desk daily as obstacles are thrown in her path. Almost a hero.

Since entering her world of make-believe, she has rebelled against all intrusion of real-world responsibilities. Her house is a mess, but she tries. Her family is fed, but more often than not, on takeout. She vows to shower every day, but no, it’s a vow she’ll never keep. Her friends are neglected, but not in her heart.

Read her mordacious blog! Read her books! Follow her on social platforms! Sign up for her newsletter! These are all good things. What are you waiting for? Jump into bed with Annabelle. She’s having a swell time. You should join her.

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Can they stay in their own lanes?……… Renovated by Nikki Kiley

Posted: September 8, 2021 in Adult Fiction, Contemporary Romance, giveaways
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Renovated: A Workplace Romance
Nikki Kiley
Publication date: August 5th 2021
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

They’ve been hired to remodel a mansion. Will they end up getting a room?

Marisa Sanchez has grand designs for her future. After taking over her grandfather’s construction firm, the successful vlogger and civil engineer is about to take the next step with a new show on the Home Design Network. But she’s not pleased to find out she can only have the lucrative gig if she agrees to work with a handsome rival.

Levi Chance takes the responsibility of providing for his brothers seriously. So when his biggest client asks him to come into the spotlight to co-host a new program, he reluctantly accepts. But he fears the pretty, camera-loving partner he’s been assigned might bring his top-notch reputation tumbling down if she can’t deliver the goods.

Discovering her teammate is quite capable, Marisa battles her attraction to him as she ambitiously turns the project upside down. And the more Levi works with the smart Latina, the more he worries he’s about to push the “no sex” morality clause in their contract into forbidden territory.

Will Marisa and Levi’s fixer-upper turn into a happily together forever?

Renovated is the charming first book in the moving Chance Brothers contemporary romance series. If you like sparkling attractions, comedic moments, and steamy action, then you’ll love Nikki Kiley’s well-built romp.

Goodreads / Amazon

Check out this peek inside:

“I’m going to make a confession. I wasn’t expecting to like you, especially after our first meet and greet.” She bit her bottom lip. All I could do was stare at her mouth as she continued. “I’m not shy, I also believe in saying what’s on my mind and going for what I want, so I’m going to come right out and say it.”

I could feel the heat of her body only inches from mine as she moved closer to me. “You’re super-hot, the total package, brains, and brawn. I understand why the network wants you. Women will eat you up. They’ll imagine you as they make their honey-do lists, it’s a compliment before you get offended,” she laughed as if the joke was on her. “Shit, I would do you, but I’m not fucking this up. I won’t cross any lines that could risk the project, so we each stay in our lanes. Of course, I’m assuming you agree.”

Did she just say she’d do me? “Uh, yeah, um. . . stay in my lane, couldn’t agree more.”

.

Author Nikki Kiley

Nikki Kiley is an aspiring author of Contemporary Romance. Since she was a young girl, she dreamt of writing stories that would entertain and move her readers, like she was and still is, by talented authors.

When not working the day job running a medical office, she spends hours crafting and writing stories about heroes and heroines earning their chance at love. She makes her home in Puerto Rico with her husband, two young adult children, and a gentle giant, the bull mastiff, Kira.

She loves the beach, her Nespresso maker, and cupcakes (S’more in particular).

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From The Do-Over Series ~ Feisty by Julia Kent

Posted: January 29, 2021 in Adult Fiction, comedy, giveaways, Romance
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2

 

Feisty
Julia Kent
(Do-Over Series, #3)
Publication date: January 28th 2020
Genres: Adult, Comedy, Romance

Synopsis

I’m not too proud to admit that finding Mr. Right involves swiping right. Right? Welcome to dating in avocado toastland.

Here I am, on my first blind date, ever, courtesy of a smartphone app and my two annoying best friends.

So what is Chris “Fletch” Fletcher doing, walking across the room, looking at his phone like he’s pattern matching a picture to find a real person he’s never met before?

Oh.

Oh, no.

The guy I drop-kicked in seventh grade cannot be my blind date. The guy who earned me this infernal nickname.

That’s right.

Feisty.
—

More from New York Times bestselling author Julia Kent as Fiona “Feisty” Gaskill gets her chance at love – drop-kick included.

Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo / Google Play / Audible / Amazon Audio

Only 99¢ for a limited time!

~~~~~

Enjoy this peek inside:

My lungs have decided that the world is too dangerous to make a move, utter a sound, do anything. I’m frozen, the pulse inside me growing stronger as time ticks away. My own shut-down system is the barrier to oxygen. The disconnect between what my body needs and what my tattered psyche can handle is causing my overload to leak out in a really obvious way.

“Fiona?” Josh says, shaking me gently, Michelle looking to him for certainty.

And then suddenly, Josh is out of my sight, replaced by two clear, calm, green eyes, light brown hair, and hands that feel like anchors.

“Feisty? Feis–Fiona?” Fletch corrects. The sudden pivot to using my proper name is jarring, given the fact that every atom in the world is buzzing inside my ears and nothing anyone does will help me to breathe.

I make a strange sound. I know it’s strange because his eyebrows turn down in the middle, his facial muscles pushing them low enough to show concern.

Concern for me.

“Breathe,” he says slowly as he puts one hand on my diaphragm, fingers warm and firm.

I make a sound to indicate that I am confused and the speech centers in my brain have shut down. Empathy floods me as I realize this is exactly what my student with severe apraxia, little Myles, must feel like when he loses his words under extreme stress. For years, I’ve said “use your words” to four-year-olds having anxiety fits.

Never again.

“Breathe, Fiona,” he murmurs, taking a deep breath to demonstrate, his belly expanding in a comical way, though I know his technique is strong. Hypnotic and commanding, his voice and body tell me what to do, guide me back from being lost in the woods to a cleared trail where I can find my footing, take a rest, and possibly feel safe again, knowing I can find my way home.

I inhale, the insides of my nostrils cold, the air hitting my nasal passages a welcome assault, diaphragm spasming and sputtering back to life.

“That’s my girl,” he whispers against the curl of my ear, his breath like coffee, his hard forearm muscles all I can see, the ripped cord of his strong lines drawing my gaze. “You just breathe. It’s over now. You did it. You saved them. It’s okay to breathe.” He inhales, then slowly exhales. “Let’s do this together now.”

Author Julia Kent

New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Julia Kent writes romantic comedy with an edge. Since 2013, she has sold more than 2 million books, with 4 New York Times bestsellers and more than 19 appearances on the USA Today bestseller list. Her books have been translated into French and German, with more titles releasing in 2020 and beyond.

From billionaires to BBWs to new adult rock stars, Julia finds a sensual, goofy joy in every contemporary romance she writes. Unlike Shannon from Shopping for a Billionaire, she did not meet her husband after dropping her phone in a men’s room toilet (and he isn’t a billionaire she met in a romantic comedy).

She lives in New England with her husband and three children where she is the only person in the household with the gene required to change empty toilet paper rolls.

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Eventually Evie ~ An adult comedy romance by Cat Lavoie

Posted: January 5, 2021 in Adult Fiction, comedy, giveaways, Romance
Tags: , , ,
13

 

Eventually Evie

by Cat Lavoie

Publication date: January 4th 2021
Genres: Adult, Comedy, Romance

Synopsis

How are you supposed to get your life back on track when the Universe won’t stop messing with you?

After a series of personal and professional setbacks, interior designer Evie Glass has lost faith in herself and the world. The last thing she needs is her loud, boisterous family poking their noses in her business, so that’s why she avoids opening up about anything—especially her love life—during their weekly dinners. Thankfully, her bestie and next-door neighbor, Matilda, always has her back.

When Evie is asked to cat-sit Matilda’s beloved rescue, she’s not thrilled at the prospect. One well-meaning mistake later and a distraught Evie is rushing her furry charge to the ER where she meets and is instantly smitten with Fletcher West, a charming veterinarian who seems to return her interest. That is until they both realize they’ve met before—ten years ago when he was dating her temperamental cousin. Fletch’s break-up with Bee put him at the top of her family’s hit list and makes him the last person Evie should be dating.

In addition to navigating a secret romance with Fletch, Evie must also deal with a demanding new job, an eccentric client from her former life, and an ex who’s suddenly blowing up her phone. She convinces herself she’s got it all under control, but what happens when things start falling apart and Evie learns she’s not the only one keeping secrets?

One thing’s for sure…

Eventually Evie’s got to take a chance—on love, on life, and on herself.

Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo

~~~~~

Enjoy this peek inside:

Text to Matilda:

Someone just threw a meatball at my face. Talk about kicking a girl when she’s down. Rescue me?

I don’t know what I did to piss off the Universe, but she’s had it in for me for a while. And because of her latest stunt, I now have bits of ground beef stuck in my hair and Aunt Pina’s famous tomato sauce streaking my face and shirt. You could easily mistake me for an extra on the set of a mediocre horror film—one who just realized her real life will never be the quirky rom-com she desperately wants it to be. This is not what I signed up for. Who approved these script changes?

It’s my fault for allowing myself to get distracted. I sent an urgent text to Matilda, my best friend, over twenty minutes ago, and I was just checking my phone to see if she answered—she hadn’t. And then a three-year-old sniper attacked me.

My cousin Frankie’s son has been going through a phase where he throws everything that isn’t glued down as if he’s trying out for the Yankees. I’m his favorite target, so I need to stay on my toes when he’s around. Thank goodness he’s adorable and I’m a sucker for dimples. All of my adult family members are too busy screaming at each other to notice—or punish—the meatball-throwing toddler. Their voices are getting louder and louder, and even though I love everyone sitting at this table, I sometimes wish my family enjoyed the sound of silence a little bit more.

But the scene before me is completely normal. All the sharp objects on the table will be used to eat a delicious dinner, not to stab someone in the heat of the moment. Despite the loud voices and animated gestures, no one is angry.

In fact, it’s a joyous occasion. My cousin Bianca—Bee to friends and family—has just announced she’s getting married. Obviously, the earth has stopped spinning on its axis at the very news and the presses have screeched to a halt. It’s also my birthday today, but my measly milestone has once again been eclipsed by something involving Bee. It’s almost become a beloved family tradition, and I’m so used to her claiming all the attention for herself that I can’t be mad at Bee. I’m not in the mood for attention anyway.

“Isn’t it gorgeous?” Bee is holding up a bunny-eared iPhone so we can see a picture of the ring Mike is going to buy her—a princess cut diamond surrounded by two smaller pink stones on a white gold band. I crane my neck to get a closer look. As per the ring website, this model is their biggest seller and a wonderful way to tell her you want to spend all of eternity by her side. Gag me. But why isn’t the ring on her finger?

“Wait. Wait. Wait. Hold on a minute,” my cousin Fabrizio says between bites of crusty bread dripping in the extra virgin olive oil one of my uncles brings back from Italy every year. “Why am I looking at a picture of this ring on your phone? Shouldn’t it be on your finger?” He’s clearly reading my thoughts. (And he’s also spewing crumbs with every word, but we’re on opposite sides of the table, so I’m safe. Aunt Pina—not so much.)

Bee flicks her long, chocolate-colored hair off her shoulder and gives her brother a stern look. “We’re not technically engaged yet. But it’s going to happen. Soon. We’re just waiting for the ring to be delivered.” It’s obvious by her narrowed eyes that follow-up questions will not be accepted at this time.

It takes all the willpower in the world for me not to groan in annoyance. Does Mike know he’s just a UPS delivery window away from proposing? And won’t he wonder why no one is surprised when Bee makes her official announcement?

“You’re going to make a beautiful bride.” Aunt Pina—one of my mother’s four sisters—can’t get the words out without choking up, and she brings a linen napkin to her face to delicately wipe away a tear. Bee is her only daughter—a much-prayed-for miracle baby after five boisterous sons—and her wedding day has been planned since the second she was born. It will be a night fit for a princess—a big fat Italian wedding to top all other big fat Italian weddings. Every single guest will marvel at how delicious the food was, how gorgeous the bride looked in her designer dress, how no expense was spared from the finest champagne to a dessert table guaranteed to induce a diabetic coma and widespread jealousy and envy.

 

Author Cat Lavoie

Cat Lavoie is a chick lit writer from Montreal, Canada.
She loves writing fun and quirky romantic comedies and is the author of BREAKING THE RULES, ZOEY & THE MOMENT OF ZEN, PERI IN PROGRESS and MESSING WITH MATILDA.

A fan of all things feline, Cat loves cats and hopes to someday have a house full of them in order to officially become a crazy cat lady. (But one or two cats will do for now.)

If she isn’t reading or writing, Cat enjoys listening to podcasts (mostly comedy and true crime) and watching way too much TV. She fell in love with London many years ago and hopes to go back one day. Cat is currently at work on her next novel.

To connect with Cat and find out more about her books, visit CatLavoie.com and follow @CatLavoieBooks on Twitter, Facebook, and Instagram.

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Ain’t She Sweet by Whitney Dineen ~ Excerpt and Giveaway

Posted: December 17, 2020 in Adult Fiction, comedy, giveaways, Romance
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4

 

Ain’t She Sweet
Whitney Dineen
(Seven Brides for Seven Mothers #2)
Publication date: December 15th 2020
Genres: Adult, Comedy, Romance

Synopsis

Tara Heinz began her modeling career at the tender age of twelve. After spending fifteen years drooling over forbidden foods, she does the unthinkable. She enrolls in culinary school and becomes a pastry chef.

After a nasty breakup with her rock star boyfriend that leads to tabloid war, Tara takes a job at a rural lodge in Oregon to escape the spotlight she no longer desires.

James Cavanaugh is a farmer in Oregon. His days are spent building his business and his nights are spent sleeping, so he can get up at four in the morning.

Ruby Cavanaugh has plans for her son that involve her new pastry chef. Of course, neither James nor Tara know what’s going on until it’s too late.

Goodreads / Amazon

~~~~~

Enjoy this peek inside:

After arranging an assortment of gourds on her newspaper-covered dining room table, Ruby picks up her telephone to call her oldest son, Brogan. “How are you and Addie doing?” she wants to know. As the first recipients of her matchmaking endeavor, the success of their union is integral to her confidence in setting up her younger son, James, with her new pastry chef.

“She’s great. We’re great. New York is beautiful in the fall.”

Whoever said glitter was the herpes of the crafting world never fully appreciated its hypnotic effects, Ruby thinks while spraying gold glitter paint. “I knew you two were meant to be.”

“I don’t know how you decided that, but I’m glad you did. For a while there I thought you were trying to set Addison up with James. Speaking of which, how are things going between him and Tara?”

“What do you mean?” Ruby asks, trying—and failing—to sound innocent.

“Don’t try to tell me you haven’t set your sights on her for my little brother.”

After several moments, Ruby dejectedly confesses, “It’s been hard finding ways to throw them together now that James’s farmstand is mostly closed for the season. I’ve had to resort to hiring your brother to put in a garden here at the lodge.”

“Interesting. I’m not sure I should offer, but let me know if I can do anything to help.”

“You and Addie are still coming home for Christmas, right?”

“Yes, ma’am. We arrive the second week of December and are planning on staying until the first week of March. I’ll be working on my new novel and Addie is going to commute to a hotel she’s redesigning in Portland.”

Ruby walks around the table, eyeing her decorative fall creation before firing off a final burst of sparkle. “I might need your help then. In the meantime, don’t bring up Tara’s name when you talk to James. I don’t want him to guess what I’m up to until it’s too late.”

“You make me nervous, Mom, but you did such a great job for me that I promise not to interfere in your latest project.”

“Good. Now, I’ve got to go. Your brother will be here any minute to meet with Tara about the dessert portion of the garden.”

“Does he know he’s meeting with her?” Brogan asks.

“Of course not. What fun would that be? Bye!” Ruby hangs up on her son before he has a chance to reply. After refreshing her lipstick and picking invisible lint from her sweater, she’s off to make another love connection.

 

About Author Whitney Dineen

Whitney loves to laugh, play with her kids, bake, and eat french fries — not always in that order.

Whitney is a multi-award-winning author of romcoms, non-fiction humor, and middle reader fiction. Basically, she writes whatever the voices in her head tell her to.

She lives in the beautiful Pacific Northwest with her husband, Jimmy, where they raise children, chickens, and organic vegetables.

Gold Medal winner at the International Readers’ Favorite Awards, 2017.

Silver medal winner at the International Readers’ Favorite Awards, 2015, 2016.

Finalist RONE Awards, 2016.

Finalist at the IRFA 2016, 2017.

Finalist at the Book Excellence Awards, 2017

Finalist Top Shelf Indie Book Awards, 2017

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The Art Of Loving Ellie By Loren Beeson ~ Excerpt and Giveaway

Posted: December 16, 2020 in Contemporary Romance, giveaways
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1

 

The Art of Loving Ellie
Loren Beeson
Publication date: November 14th 2020
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

Synopsis

Smart, beautiful, talented, and… awkward.

Ellie Clark has big dreams of moving to the city to become a well-known artist. With the help of her eccentric boss, Alex, and his influence in the New York City art scene, everything should go according to plan. Until suddenly, Ellie comes to realize that her passion for painting has vanished with no explanation.

Despite her best attempts at avoiding distractions, she not so gracefully tumbles into a sexy stranger, adding more chaos to her already unsteady life. He continues to challenge her to the point of losing her grip on the one thing that keeps her grounded—her control, and to make matters worse, a past she had long ago made peace with is ripped wide open when she receives a phone call from a ghost of her previous life.

The refuge of her comfort zone is her greatest dependency, but Ellie doesn’t see the bigger picture. Can she risk opening her heart to this exciting, overconfident trouble-maker, or will she embrace the trauma of her past to discover that second chances aren’t just for the storybooks…

Goodreads / Amazon

~~~~~

Enjoy this glimpse inside:

The wind whirls around me on my walk from the train to the office, and I continuously have to pull my hair out of my sticky lip gloss. My scarf has come loose from my coat and is flapping around, slapping me in the face repeatedly, and I’m starting to get irritated. I promised myself today would be a better day and dammit, I’m not going to let a little wind ruin it.

I’m attempting to wrangle my scarf and push the door open, all while trying to somewhat maintain my composure so Margaux doesn’t think I’m a total twit. Judging by her squinted eyes and puckered face, I can see that I’ve less than succeeded in that mission.

Finally getting inside the building, I turn around to scold the doors and realize I’ve dropped one of my bags in all of the chaos. I huff as I walk over to grab it off the floor, and turn to make my way back toward the elevator.

Instead of advancing forward to my desired destination, I’m propelled backward when I full-on body slam the solid form standing in front of me. Without even knowing who I’ve run in to, I start to sputter, “Oh my God! I’m so sorry!” Reaching out to try and stabilize us both, my hands wrap around what I realize are firm, male biceps.

My eyebrows rise in shock as my eyes adjust to what they can only perceive as the most attractive man in all of New York City. I’m struck by the curious way he’s staring at me, making me feel like a bug in a petri dish. The warm amber scent of his cologne slams my senses, and I feel a quick head rush. I expect him to be annoyed by my clumsiness, but to my surprise, he appears amused.

He lightly chuckles, “Whoa there, Windy.”

His deep, masculine voice rumbles between us, and I have to blink a few times to keep myself focused. The long sleeves of his shirt are folded halfway up his forearms, showcasing a tan that practically glows with warmth, and my fingers twitch with wonder at what it would be like to run them across his exposed skin.

The humor in his eyes shines bright, and he appears to be laughing at me. Did he happen to see the scarf display? Surely he didn’t.

“I thought that scarf was going to strangle you before you even got through the door,” he says teasingly.

Dear God, he did. My heart beats loudly in my chest, and I feel my face burning hot. My gaze follows his movements as his arm flexes to fix his disheveled hair. His shoulders are wide, and even under his button-up shirt, and form-fitting vest, I can tell he is physically fit. His slacks hug his legs in all the right places, and I’m immediately drawn to his warm, welcoming presence.

His laughter is gentle, but I feel awkward standing here in front of this gorgeous guy, looking like a klutz. The man is taller than me, and I have to bend my head back slightly just to look up at him. He blinds me with a bright white smile as my eyes travel to a small scar on his left cheek just below his eye, and I’m curious as to how he acquired it.

There’s something about him I can’t put my finger on. He’s attractive, sure—but he’s unlike any guy I’ve ever met before. A lazy, confident smile graces his lips, and the way he crowds me while keeping just the right amount of distance causes my skin to flush.

I feel self-conscious, so of course, I have to blurt out something super embarrassing. “Yeah, this scarf is a real bad boy!” My eyes practically bug out of my head in shock.

Please, tell me that did not just come out of my mouth.

With a hand cupping my eyes to block him from my sight, I try to skirt around Mr. Attractive to find anywhere to repeat to myself what a big, awkward idiot I feel like.

“Hey, wait a second!” he calls after me. His large hand wraps around my arm gently, the casual touch warming its way to my skin through my layers. I turn toward him, halting my escape.

“Look, I—I’m sorry that I ran into you, and I’m glad I could give you a good laugh, but there’s no need to carry on.” I rub the back of my neck nervously with my free hand.

Trying to move around a man who’s a good foot taller than me is a lot harder than I realized. His eyes, which I now notice are the most beautiful shade of whiskey brown I have ever seen, lock with mine, momentarily freezing time. Though smacking the amusement out of them is pretty tempting, I’m finding it increasingly hard to breathe around this man.

The stranger continues staring at me, making me a little uncomfortable, and I glance around the lobby nervously as I wait for him to speak. I rock back and forth on my heels, gently shrugging out of his hold. “I really should get upstairs. My boss is kind of an ass when I’m late, and god-forbid I tell him I’ve been terrorizing guests downstairs.”

Tilting his head slightly, as if something about me perplexes him, he asks, “Would you like to get coffee with me?”

“G—get coffee with you?” I stutter uncertainly. He hasn’t stopped smiling since I attempted to take him down Dwayne ‘The Rock’ Johnson style, and I’m starting to wonder just how crazy this guy is. “We’ve only known each other for five minutes?”

My heart begins to flutter a little when he takes a step forward into my personal space. “I think I’d like five more.” He winks at me and my jaw drops a little in surprise. He laughs lightly at my reaction to his request.

“Listen, uh—” I give him a second to insert his name. When he doesn’t supply me with one, I continue, “I’m not exactly the dating type.”

“Who said anything about dating?” he teases, but there’s a confident look in his eyes as if he knows I’m going to agree.

This guy is charming, and if I had to bet—a lady killer. His light brown hair is tousled about, but it’s not too long to be unmanageable. I momentarily let my eyes roam over him and think how he favors Alex Pettyfer quite a bit.

I’m staring at the adorable way his hair curls away from his ears when he politely clears his throat. Shaking my head, I clear my thoughts, “Oh! Well, I—I suppose coffee couldn’t hurt.”

“Charlie’s?” he asks, and I squint my eyes at him in question. There are at least five different coffee shops between this block and the next, and he chooses my favorite one. It’s odd, but I can’t find a single good reason to say no, so I breathe out an unsteady, “Okay.”

“How’s noon, tomorrow sound?” I look past him to see that he’s left his bags by Margaux’s desk. Curious. I wonder what business he has here, but I smile up at him, trying not to give away my thoughts.

“Sure, sounds great.” Maybe he’s an artist too, or possibly meeting with someone to reserve space on a floor here.

“May I have your name?” He extends his hand for me to shake, and I reach out, feeling the soft heat of his palm against mine. “Elizabeth, but I prefer Ellie.”

He pulls my hand up to his unbelievably soft lips, giving the back of it a quick kiss, and the crooked grin he gives me piques my interest as he turns away, swaggering back toward Margaux’s desk.

I begin to sweat with nervousness on my walk over to the elevator, nausea coating the back of my tongue, and my stomach threatens to heave its contents. What was I thinking saying yes? Turning back toward the lobby slightly, I see him leaning over to Margaux with both elbows on her desk as they smile and talk about something that I can’t make out.

Mmhmm, he’s a lady killer alright.

She’s practically drooling. Poor thing probably isn’t even listening to what he’s saying, but he uses his hands excitedly while talking to her and I find it almost… endearing.

I get on the elevator and I’m forced to stare at them as I wait for the doors to shut. Margaux’s back is to me, but Mr. Attractive flicks his gaze up to meet mine right as the elevator doors are beginning to close and gives me a smile so mischievous, it causes my body temperature to rise to a feverish degree. The doors shut and I realize—I gave him my name, but he didn’t give me his.

About Author Loren Beeson

Loren is a dreamer, artist, radiologic technologist, and author who loves animals and people. Always writing short stories as a young child and young adult, she knew she wanted to become an author someday. The Art of Loving Ellie is Loren’s debut novel.

Loren can be found in her cozy home in Texas with her nose in a book, her corgi and mini-aussie on her lap, and her son trailing along with her and her husband through their many adventures.

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Black Dog Rising by Kat Caulberg ~ Excerpt and Giveaway

Posted: August 31, 2020 in giveaways, Paranormal or fantasy, Romance
Tags: , , ,
19

 

Black Dog Rising
Kat Caulberg
Published by: Soul Mate Publishing
Publication date: July 1st 2020
Genres: Adult, Paranormal, Romance

.

Synopsis

Since arriving in England, nothing has made sense for Emma Aubrey. Forced to flee her ex-boyfriend and the vengeful ghost of his dead wife, she seeks refuge in Ninestone Downs, a sleepy country village where people still whisper of fairies and a hellish phantom canine prowls its streets.

Toby Deering has no more room in his life for the paranormal. He’s got secrets of his own, including a four-hundred-year-old curse and a past he can’t escape. The last thing he wants is a quirky American woman on his doorstep in desperate need of shelter, or the accidental touch that awakens a bond between them neither can ignore.

But ancient forces are stirring. When Emma finds herself the target of a shadowy stalker, will her bond with Toby be enough to withstand the evil Fae Court and the hellhound on her heels?

Goodreads / Amazon

~~~~~

Enjoy this peek inside:

The trill of a penny whistle tugged Emma to an avenue winding away from the heart of the village. The buildings grew smaller as she reached the stream marking the town’s boundary. It fed the river she and Toby crossed earlier, a medieval stone bridge bowed over its banks. Beyond lay the fen. The Nine Sisters stood at the edge of one of those watery coils where drier land took over, forever imprisoned.

She slowed.

With no lights on the fen to soften the darkness, there was no way to determine solid ground from the wet, marshy soil snaking for miles into the country. Wandering out into the fields would be dangerous, even deadly. She turned to leave.

A fiddle wept in the night. The sound came from the route toward the standing stones, binding Emma to her need to find it. The tune dipped low, pulling at the invisible link. Her feet moved, taking her with them, each soft step issuing a warning against going further. Something was wrong, she knew, but the music cajoled, it coaxed, and although she wrapped a hand around the pillar beside the bridge to stop herself, the music sweet-talked her into letting go.

She would follow and happily be lost.

The beast growled before she saw it. Slinking from a patch of darkness, a blocky figure materialized on the opposite side of the stream. Its shoulders reached as high as the sides of the bridge, making it taller than Emma’s hip. The stench of sulfur crawled over the water and scraped at her hindbrain.

Claws clicked on clunch stone, leading up to legs seemingly too spindly to sustain the weight of the beast’s shaggy body. A chain dangled from its neck. Doglike, it pinned its ears to its skull and sniffed the wind.

Suspended in blackness darker than the rest, two bright, red eyes burning with infernal light flicked open.

She clamped a hand to her mouth too late to stop her shriek. This was no shade, no outline, no trick of the night. The thing standing before her was real. A name circled her brain, seeking exit.

“Shuck,” she croaked.

The beast stretched its mouth and grinned.

Long, tapered needles glistened in crimson gums. Emma’s blood ran cold. It had heard her. It had understood. In a corner of her mind, a rational voice broke through her terror, whispering warnings. If she ran, it would follow. Not just follow, but chase, track, hunt, destroy.

She stretched her hands to show she held no weapons and was no threat to it, although what threat could she present to a creature crafted of midnight and hellfire? The thing was a demon.

A demon that saved a man from a flock of runaway sheep, a second inner voice piped up. One that might have just saved Shane. Maybe. Or maybe it’d been unsuccessful in its bid for an evening snack.

“Sit,” Emma whimpered. “Stay.”

 

Author Kat Caulberg

For as long as she can remember, Kat Caulberg has been obsessed with history and the paranormal. Somewhat to the dismay of her parents, her interests led her into both museums and graveyards as a child, a trend which has continued into her adulthood. This has influenced her reading tastes and her writing, whether it be a good ghost story, thrilling tales of time-travel, or devouring endless volumes of ancient warfare.

She signed a contract with Soul Mate Publishing in 2018 for her first novel, Three Star Island, a time-travel story set in 1721. She enjoys writing strong, quirky heroines, and has a weakness for cheeky heroes who have as much compassion as they have flaws.

Kat currently lives in North Carolina with her Englishman and a few cats.

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#Surviving40 by by Karen Anne ~ Excerpt and Giveaway

Posted: August 29, 2020 in comedy, giveaways, Romance
Tags: , , ,
11

 

#Surviving40
Karen Anne
Publication date: August 25th 2020
Genres: Adult, Comedy, Romance

Synsopsis

Piper Quinn was more than ready to turn forty. So ready she began planning her Parisian celebration at thirty-five. That is until her life fell apart at thirty-nine. Left staring at divorce papers, Piper instantly regrets signing that pre-nup. How was she to know her husband would turn her in for a younger model?

After “accidentally” setting her Manhattan apartment on fire, Piper finds herself not only newly divorced, but newly homeless. Forced to move back home with her parents and take a job she doesn’t want, she soon discovers the gossip train in town moves faster than the subway system in New York—and she’s the hottest topic to leave the station. If matters weren’t bad enough, life in rural Connecticut seems downright claustrophobic when her sixteen year old daughter stops talking to her.

A blast from her past is the spark Piper needs to reignite her life. Owen Clarke, an old high school flame has the ability to turn back time making Piper feel sixteen again. The instant chemistry between them gives Piper hope of redeeming her second act. There’s only one teeny, tiny three foot problem: Owen’s daughter is in Piper’s Kindergarten class. With temptation lurking in every corner, Piper needs to put her emotions—and hormones— in check.

No one said getting older was easy, but turning forty just became a game of survival.

Goodreads / Amazon

~~~~~

Enjoy this peek inside

#SurvivalTip: It’s not stalking if you show your face.

I was a glutton for punishment. No doubt in my mind I was in over my head and needed professional help. I had driven to the yoga studio in the next town where Avery taught. Now, I sat in my car, engine still running, willing myself to get the hell out. I watched her through the window. She was in a hot pink sports bra and soft grey leggings. Her hair was in its signature ponytail. There was a bounce in her step as she walked around the empty space of the studio pouring oil into the diffusers. She was in her zen arena, and I had no rational way of explaining my motive other than this woman had Owen and walked away. Why? There had to be something twisted inside her. Some narcissism or schizophrenia that would compel her to leave a man who was pretty close to perfect.

Convinced I had boarded the train to crazy town, I knew I had to get out of here before she saw me. A rap on my window caused me to jump and let out a yelp. I turned to my left, horrified to see Holly standing outside my car door. I lowered my window. “Oh my God! I thought that was you! What are you doing here?” She was practically bouncing.

“Um, Avery had invited me a few times, but my stomach is a little funky… bad sushi… so I think I’m going to head out.”

“Nonsense. Yoga is great for the digestive system. Come on, you’re going to freak over this class. Avery is amazing. You’ll love her.”
I doubted it, but could see no way out, so with a heavy heart, I cut my engine and followed Holly into the studio.

“Avery! Look who I found outside!” Holly grabbed my arm as if I might run away if she didn’t hold on to me. I didn’t blame her. There was a good chance I would flee at the first opportunity. Like a cat in an alley, scouring out the corners, looking for a place to hide, I was in full blown feral mode. If Avery came too close, there was a good chance I’d scratch her.

Avery was overjoyed to see me, her mouth agape as she waved her arms. It was exactly how a cult leader would look if they were trying to lull me into a false sense of security. Her eyes were the size of saucers as she ran over to me, and her beautiful features suddenly held an alien quality to them.

“No way!” She pulled me into a deep hug. Damn this chick was solid. She was smaller than me, and it freaked me out, because I was pretty sure she could kick my ass. “I can’t believe you came! This is amazing. I’m telling you, after tonight, you will be hooked, right, Holly?”

“She’s so right. I swear if I miss a session, my body is quick to let me know—total withdrawal. I need this every week.”

“Have you taken yoga before, Ms. Quinn?”

“You can call me Piper.” It was clear they were all on a first name basis, and I didn’t want to be the old lady rigid in formality. I sized up Avery, trying to decipher how old she was. Owen was my year in school so we were the same age, but this woman, with her flawless skin that had never seen the sun without being protected in SPF 50, was still soaking in the glory of a body that was barely three decades old. “Not really. A few times here or there, but nothing too advanced. I’m not very flexible,” I admitted.

“Well, flexibility comes with practice, and that’s what this is. I don’t see it as exercise so much as a way of life.” Damn she was serious. “I need water every day. I need food, I need sleep. I also need yoga.”
I currently needed a plastic bag to vomit in. This chick was too poster perfect, and the more she spoke, the more inadequate I became.
Avery glanced at her watch. “Oh! Showtime! Let’s find a spot on the floor and settle in.”

There were at least ten other women in the room, and so I walked toward the back, but Holly grabbed my arm and told me to sit next to her. She unfurled her yoga mat, and that’s when I realized I hadn’t brought one.
“I don’t have a mat.” The words were low, and I imagined I sounded like one of my students saying they didn’t have a crayon to color the picture. I didn’t have a mat because I didn’t expect to actually enter the studio. I put on leggings and a tank top like it was a costume, the intention to workout wasn’t real. It was cosplay, nothing more.

“Avery has extra.” Holly jogged over to the corner and pulled a grey mat from the box. She laid it out in front of me, revealing the turquoise lotus flower that was printed in the center. I thanked Holly and sat on the lotus flower, copying Avery, who was now seated on the floor.

“Welcome back everyone.” Avery’s voice was silky smooth.
She’d be great as a phone sex operator. Hell, I’d pay a dollar a minute to see what she had to say. I could only imagine the lewd comments that voice had whispered into Owen’s attentive ears over the years. The hair on the back of my neck bristled at the thought.

Avery folded her legs in front of her in a way I referred to in kindergarten as “pretzel style” and took a few deep breaths. Her eyes were closed, and I soon became aware that everyone around me had also closed their eyes, trusting Avery’s voice to take them on this meditative journey. That was asking a lot of me, but not about to be caught staring at her, I closed my eyes and tried my best to breathe in a way that was not natural at all.

The breathing lasted a long time, and although I was supposed to be letting my thoughts melt away and empty my mind of heaviness, I was too busy burying myself in clutter as I tacked up insecurity after insecurity. The anxiety reached new heights when we were actually expected to transition from breathing to different animal poses. I didn’t know I’d have to be a cat, cow, cobra, and dog all in one flow. We were moving from downward dog to plank to cobra when Avery tilted her head, got up, and walked over to me. Crap. I was doing something wrong.

“Come back up to downward facing dog.” I did as she instructed and was surprised when she came behind me and held my hips. “Okay, you want to open up your hips more, spread your legs a bit wider, and really fall back into this stretch.” She kept one hand on my left hip, her right hand rested gently on my back. I hoped I wasn’t sweaty.

“Your goal is to have your heels touch the ground. It won’t happen right away.” She got beside me, mimicking the proper pose. My hamstrings were burning, which caused my legs to tremble. The blood rushed to my head; I raised my gaze and caught what we looked like in the mirror. It was a bad decision. The mirror only exposed how I felt— disoriented and in physical pain, while Avery bent over beside me, modeling the pose with ease.

“You want your body to become an upside down V. See?” I nodded and prayed she’d move on to another victim. The gods must have shown pity on me because she bounced back up and went to the front to show us the next pose.

About Author Karen Anne

Karen Anne was writing before she could read. As a toddler, she sat with a book in her hands and made up the stories, eager for the day when she’d find out if it all truly ended in happily ever after. Karen still determines the destiny of other people’s lives, but this time, the characters are her own.

She is a Contemporary Romance author who lives in New York.
Coffee drinker by day, wine enthusiast by night, she loves cats and deeply misses 90’s grunge.

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The Other Side Of The Looking Glass by Kathleen Harryman

Posted: August 12, 2020 in giveaways, Romance, suspense
Tags: , ,
5

 

The Other Side of the Looking Glass
Kathleen Harryman
Publication date: June 29th 2020
Genres: Adult, Romance, Suspense

Synopsis

She wakes up to a life she doesn’t recognize…
And to a husband she can’t imagine loving.

Kate find herself in a hospital with no memory of who she is or anything about her life. Everything is blank.

An attractive, well dressed and obviously wealthy man stands there claiming to be her husband. Yet, as she first looks into his cold eyes, she wonders how she could have loved and married the man.

As Kate is taken home to her luxury mansion. she realizes her ordeal is just beginning. Life with the controlling Liam, her husband, is more than she bargained for.

Then, her memory starts to come back and the truth emerges…

“A well written, thought-out, intriguing and beguiling story by the author, as told by the characters involved.” ~ Goodreads Review ~

“The Other Side of The Looking Glass by Kathleen Harryman was intense, intriguing, well paced and an absolute pleasure to read.” ~ Goodreads review

Read this romantic suspense thriller from the author of Hidden Danger and When Darkness Falls, The Other Side of the Looking Glass is a tale of subterfuge, mystery, mistaken identity and true love.

Goodreads / Amazon

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Enjoy this glimpse inside:

Chapter One

KATE

He clinical smell of detergent penetrates my senses and my eyes flutter open. I find myself staring at a white-tiled commercial ceiling, questioning if I am awake or asleep – though it does seem like a rather strange dream to have. I blink. The ceiling remains. My senses give my brain a nudge and it fires up but provides no answers. Brows wrinkling in confusion, I begin trying to determine what is going on.

One thing I am certain of, is that my body is sore and stiff. Muscles aching, I remain as I am, twisting my head to the right. The sun glares through a wide, steel window. From the sun’s height in the sky, I estimate it has been there some time.

A feeling of guilt settles over me. It appears sleeping in isn’t something I indulge in.

To my right, between the bed and window, is a small white cupboard and a plastic-coated armchair. Sunflowers sit in a vase on the bedside cupboard. I like sunflowers. Though at this moment, I fail to recall why.

An irritating beep-beep sound comes from my left, and I swing my eyes in that direction, lifting my head slightly. Wires litter my body and a pink cellular hospital blanket covers me. The beeping begins to make sense, along with the plastic-coated chair and wires. I am in a hospital.

A sigh escapes my lips as I resist the urge to panic. Instead, I acknowledge my dislike of hospitals. Then again, name a patient or visitor who likes them. There is that clinical smell that lingers long after you have left, and they are full of sick people. At present, I am reluctant to place myself in the ‘sick people’ category, even if my brain is screaming at me, telling me I wouldn’t be here if I was fit and well.

Tentatively, I sniff the air. This hospital does smell nicer than the ones I have stayed in and visited before. At present, I am unable to remember ever spending time in or visiting a hospital, though I’m sure I have done so.

My eyes widen and adrenalin is released into my bloodstream. Hands shaking, my breathing quickens. Panic grips me. Why can’t I remember anything? My eyes fly round the room, unseeing. What has happened to me?

If I am in a hospital, I am safe and cared for. Quantifying this fact allows reason to be heard. Though my heart still hammers, its beat is more regular than it was. My memories are in there, somewhere, I just need to find them. It’s probably the drugs they have given me, clouding and confusing my brain.

Closing my eyes, I demand that my brain starts its cognitive processing. My demand falls into a black hole of nothingness. Not giving up, I decide to think about the sunflowers, as they’d triggered a feeling of happiness. Unfortunately, this simple request is met with vacuity, and a hollow feeling takes up residence in the pit of my stomach. The only mental input I receive is that sunflowers are bright, cheery plants.

My eyes fly open and I face the frightening fact that my life is a blank.

 

Author Kathleen Harryman

Kathleen Harryman is a storyteller and poet living in the historically rich city of York, North Yorkshire, England, with her husband, children and pet dog and cat.

Kathleen first published a suspense thriller in 2015, The Other Side of the Looking Glass. Since then, she has developed a unique writing style which readers have enjoyed and is now a multi-published author of suspense, psychological thrillers, poetry and historical romance.

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Twitter / Instagram

 

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Thanks so much for visiting fuonlyknew and Good Luck!

For a list of my reviews go HERE.

For a list of free eBooks updated daily go HERE

To see all of my giveaways go HERE

I am an Amazon Affiliate. Product images are linked.

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