Monday, 29 April 2013

Lachlan's Bride by Kathleen Harrington

Please welcome Kathleen Harrington with her highlander romance, Lachlan's Bride!


He is Lachlan MacRath, laird and pirate. And he intends to be her lover…

Lady Francine Walsingham could not believe this fierce Highland warrior is to be her escort into Scotland. It is whispered that Lachlan MacRath has magical powers…how else do you explain why her countrymen call him the Sorcerer of the Seas? But trust him she must, for a treacherous plot is about to reveal all her secrets…and Francine has no choice but to act as his lover to keep her enemies at bay.

When Lachlan first sees Francine, the English beauty stirs his blood like no woman has ever before. As luck would have it, they must now play the besotted couple so he can protect her ….and Lachlan is determined to use all his seductive prowess to properly woo her into his bed.





May 1496

The Cheviot Hills

The Border between England and Scotland

Stretched flat on the blood-soaked ground, Lachlan MacRath gazed up at the cloudless morning sky and listened to the exhausted moans of the wounded.

The dead and the dying lay scattered across the lush spring grass. Overhead the faint rays of dawn broke above the hilltops, as the buttercups and bluebells dipped and swayed in the soft breeze. The gruesome corpses were sprawled amidst the wildflowers, their vacant eyes staring upward to the heavens, the stumps of their severed arms and legs still oozing blood and gore. Dented helmets, broken swords, axes, and pikes gave mute testimony to the ferocity of the combatants. Here and there, a loyal destrier, trained to war, grazed calmly alongside its fallen master.

Following close upon daylight, the scavengers would come creeping, ready to strip the bodies of anything worth a shilling: armor, dirks, boots, belts. If they were Scotsmen, he'd be in luck. If not, he'd soon be dead. There wasn't a blessed thing he could do but wait. He was pinned beneath his dead horse, and all efforts to free himself during the night had proven fruitless.

In the fierce, running battle of the evening before, the warriors on horseback had left behind all who'd fallen. Galloping across the open, rolling countryside, Scots and English had fought savagely, till it was too dark to tell friend from foe. There was no way of knowing the outcome of the battle, for victory had been determined miles away.

Hell, it was Lachlan's own damn fault. He'd come on the foray into England with King James for a lark. After delivering four new canons to the castle at Roxburgh, along with the Flemish master gunners to fire them, he'd decided not to return to his ship immediately as planned. The uneventful crossing on the Sea Hawk from the Low Countries to Edinburgh, followed by the tedious journey to the fortress, with the big guns pulled by teams of oxen, had left him eager for a bit of adventure.

When he'd learned that the king was leading a small force into Northumberland to retrieve cattle raided by Sassenach outlaws, the temptation to join them had been too great to resist. There was nothing like a hand-to-hand skirmish with his ancient foe to get a man's blood pumping through his veins.

But Lord Dacre, Warden of the Marches, had surprised the Scots with a much larger, well-armed force of his own, and what should have been a carefree rout turned into deadly combat.

A plea for help interrupted Lachlan's brooding thoughts. Not far away, a wounded English soldier, who'd cried out in pain during the night, raised himself up on one elbow.

"Lychester! Over here, sir! It's Will Jeffries!"

Lachlan watched from beneath slit lids as another Sassenach came into view. Attired in the splendid armor of the nobility, the newcomer rode a large, caparisoned black horse. He'd clearly come looking for someone, for he held the reins of a smaller chestnut, its saddle empty and waiting.

"Here I am, Marquess," the young man named Jeffries called weakly. He lifted one hand in a trembling wave as the marquess of Lychester drew near to his countryman. Dismounting, he approached the wounded soldier.

"Thank God," Jeffries said with a hoarse groan. "I've taken a sword blade in my thigh. The cut's been oozing steadily. I was afraid I wouldn't make it through the night."

Lychester didn't say a word. He came to stand behind the injured man, knelt down on one knee, and raised his fallen comrade to a seated position. Grabbing a hank of his yellow hair, the marquess jerked the fair head back and deftly slashed the exposed throat from ear to ear. Then he calmly wiped his blade on the youth's doublet, lifted him up in his arms, and threw the body face down over the chestnut's back.

The English nobleman glanced around, checking, no doubt, to see if there'd been a witness to the cold-blooded execution. Lachlan held his breath and remained motionless, his lids lowered over his eyes. Apparently satisfied, the marquess mounted, grabbed the reins of the second horse and rode away.

Lachlan slowly exhaled.


He knew the English were a bloodthirsty race. But he hadn't thought that included the murder of a helpless patriot on a deserted battlefield.

What kind of bastard did such a traitorous thing?


Buy Links

Author Info

KATHLEEN HARRINGTON, winner of the Colorado Romance Writers’ Award of Excellence, has touched the hearts of readers across the country with her sparkling tales of high adventure and unending love. Her historical romances have been finalists for the Romance Writers of America’s RITA, The Romantic Times Reviewers’ Choice Awards, the Virginia Romance Writers’ HOLT Medallion, and the Phoenix Desert Rose Golden Quill. Her fabulous heroes have garnered the KISS (Knight in Shining Silver) Award. She lives in Southern California.




Interview With The Author

Tell us about your story -

What was your inspiration for this story?

To begin with, we have to go back to ENCHANTED BY YOU, the final book in my Dreamkeepers Series. The story, set in 1886 in the Scottish Highlands, led me to research the clans and their tartans. My heroine had the gift of Second Sight, so along with other superstitions, I also delved into the belief in faeries and faery folklore. (I know, I know. Some people to this day believe in the veracity of Second Sight, but let's label it a "superstition" for the sake of brevity.)
I became so intrigued with the history of Scotland, I decided to set my next series in what is known by scholars as the Golden Age of Scotland. And so the concept for the Highland Lairds Trilogy took form. The series begins in 1496, with THE MAC LEAN GROOM.
At that time, piracy on the high seas took a bitter toll on Scottish shipping. In my research, I came across true accounts of three Scottish brothers, who sailed their own ships, carrying letters of marque and reprisal signed by their sovereign, James IV. These brothers captured and brought back to Edinburgh prizes of war sailing under English, Flemish, and Dutch flags. As you can imagine, the king of England put a price on their heads.
LACHLAN'S BRIDE, the second book, begins in 1503, right where the first story leaves off. The journey of Princess Margaret Tudor from England to Scotland to be married to James IV proved to be the historical inspiration for this book.
Lachlan MacRath, known to the English sailors as the Sorcerer of the Seas, is sent by the Scottish monarch to accompany the princess' retinue to Edinburgh. But plans can change suddenly. Especially when it comes to the will of a king. Henry VII assigns Lachlan to guard Lady Walsingham and her party on the journey north. Lachlan soon learns that the beautiful countess is rumored to be the English king's mistress.

Do you see yourself in any of your characters?

Yes and no. My heroine, Lady Francine Walsingham, has the courage I emulate and would like to have. In LACHLAN'S BRIDE, she's faced with the dilemma of how best to protect her daughter. Francine is willing to sacrifice her own happiness to keep Angelica safe. Even when it means rejecting the courtship and love of the handsome Scottish laird.
Lachlan MacRath exudes courage and strength. I always try to show my readers that my warrior hero has what it takes to accept the responsibilities of being a husband and father. There's no doubt that Lachlan would sacrifice his life to keep the ones he loves safe.

What made you choose this time period?

As I mentioned before, I'm a history buff. Frequently, a true event will spark my imagination. I particularly like this time period because there are so many romantic elements to play with. It's a time of belief in magic, of faeries and wizards. Historically, the marriage of an young English princess to the King of Scotland was a tremendously important event. The two countries had been enemies for centuries and this wedding ushered in a period of peace. It provides a wonderful background for my love story. When Margaret Tudor left for Edinburgh, she took along many of her ladies-in-waiting. They were expected to marry Scottish noblemen and remain in Scotland with her, to help her adjust to her new life and keep from being lonely. Along the route, a great procession of English nobility moved slowly northward. At every stop, the people put on spectacles to honor their princess. In LACHLAN'S BRIDE, Lady Walsingham helps the Master of the Revels create these marvelous pageants.

Tell us a little bit about you as a writer -

What is your writing environment like?

I'm very fortunate to have a lovely office to work in. It's at the front of the house with two corner windows. From my computer, I can look up and see the children going to and coming from our neighborhood school. I can see my plum and magnolia trees, plus a magnificent plumeria blooming in the summertime, as well as my flowers growing along a low rail fence beside my driveway. In addition, we get approximately 300 days of sunshine in Southern California. I often say I live in Paradise. But everyone knows that's really Hawaii!

If you're ever stuck for an idea, how do you go about finding inspiration?

I try to walk every morning in my little neighborhood park, where there are some huge trees along what used to be a river bed. The water is diverted now for flood control, but those old trees still remain along the now grassy slopes. La Bonita Park is small, but like its name, it's very pretty. My walk is a great time to open myself up to my inner creativity. Gazing at those tall trees, I can understand why our ancient ancestors believed they were inhabited by gods.

Did you always want to be a writer?

Before I became a writer, I was a storyteller. One of my childhood friends reminded me once that I used to entertain them with tales of derring-do set in another time and place. After discovering Georgette Heyer's regency romances, I wrote stories in longhand.

What is the first thing you can remember writing?

During my adolescence, I wrote Regencies, first in longhand, then on an electric typewriter. (Anyone remember using carbon paper?) None were ever published, but I wrote for the pure joy of storytelling.

Tell us a little bit about you as a person-

How do you spend your time when you're not writing?

I love to garden. I don't raise vegetables, but I do grow lots of flowers. Agapanthus, calla lilies, day lilies, Dutch iris, hibiscus, columbine, freesias, and camellias. I'm very proud of my roses, and often post pictures of them on my Facebook page. I also attend yoga classes at my local community center, where I've discovered the importance of physical exercise coupled with meditation. I'm very involved in two writers' groups and am on the board of directors for both. I also take part in a critique group called Writing Something Romantic.

What's the best way for you to unwind if you've had a hard day?

I often write in my pajamas until I'm falling asleep in front of the monitor. Then I climb into bed with an ice cream drumstick and watch a comedy rerun before turning out the light.

What are you currently reading?

I'm usually reading several books at the same time. At the moment I'm reading THE MIDDLE AGES IN THE HIGHLANDS, a non-fiction book published in Inverness, Dr. Wayne Dyer's THE POWER OF INTENTION, and THE FAIRY FAITH IN CELTIC COUNTRIES, first published in 1911. (Did I mention I'm a history buff?)

What was the last thing you watched?

I'm currently enthralled with the HBO series, GAME OF THRONES. Wouldn't that be a scary, but fantastic, place to go?

If you could go anywhere in the world, where would you go, and why?

I've been fortunate to have traveled a bit. I've taken cruises to the Greek Isles including the ports of Athens and Istanbul, also the Caribbean, and Alaska. I've traveled by car through England, Scotland, Wales, and Ireland. Also, Bavaria in Germany, Switzerland, and northern Italy, including Venice. In the future, I'd like to travel more in Germany and most definitely, France. And I hope, one day, to see Rome and Florence.
And finally, where can my readers find you?
First, let me thank you for inviting me to share my thoughts with your readers. I can be found at the following places:

Saturday, 27 April 2013

Never Say Never by Aimee Duffy

Today I'm very excited to have here with me a fellow Beachwalk Babe! Give it up for Aimee Duffy and her new release Never Say Never. This is the second book in The Price of Fame Series!


When pretend turns to desire, heartbreak is unavoidable.

Sander Chase needs a date for his ex-fiancée's engagement party, but he doesn't have time for a woman in his life. Between working on the TV show Do You Have What It Takes? and his band reforming, he's too busy for a relationship. What he needs is a pretend girlfriend. He thinks he may have found the perfect woman for the job, and the bribe he offers means she's sure to accept.

After losing her job in the film industry, breaking up with her movie star boyfriend, and finding out her mum has dementia, Chloe Butler returned to the UK determined to put her life back together. The last thing she needs is to parade around London on the arm of a celebrity, and after the heartbreak caused by her ex, she swore she'd never again date a star. But when Sander offers her a chance at her dream job, it's not something she can turn down.

As Chloe gets to know Sander she learns he's nothing like her scumbag ex. But she struggles to fight her attraction to him, knowing their relationship is only for show and their separation date is closing in fast.

Ignoring the insane chemistry between them should be easy for Sander, especially since he carries a secret that means there can be no future for them, but the more time he spends with Chloe, the harder it is to keep his hands to himself.

Content Warning: contains more denial than you'll find in a courtroom, more sexual tension than most people could handle, and explosive sex that some readers may find long overdue.


"Hey," Sander greeted her. His blue eyes were set with determination.

Chloe swallowed. "Hi, what can I get you?"
A smile crept across his face and highlighted a dimple in his right cheek. He was pretty for a man. Even considering all the mouth-watering muscles.
"Are you seeing anyone?"
Chloe blinked. "No…" she started but immediately regretted it.
If he was going to ask her out on a 'pretend date' again, telling him she was spoken for would be a better way to nip it in the bud. Not to mention she still couldn't understand why he wanted her. Surely he could find someone who didn't come with the commitments she had.
"Then I have a proposition for you."
A proposition? Was he serious? She opened her mouth to object, but he cut her off.
"Hear me out," he insisted. The set of his mouth told her there was no room for arguing. Definitely pushy. "I've been talking to my friend at Studio Four. He's looking to hire a makeup artist."
Chloe's heart rate kicked up a notch and excitement zipped through her. Was he saying what she thought he was saying? Then realization dawned. "You got me a job so I'd go out with you?"
Pushy, crazy, high-handed. The list of faults the male Adonis had was growing.
"No. I got you an interview this Friday in exchange for your company next week. You'll have to prove you can do the job to get it."
Something inside her relaxed. He wasn't handing the job to her on a plate, just giving her a foot in the door. But when she'd sent her CV to the studio a few months back, they'd said they didn't have an opening.
"Did you pull strings to get me the interview?"
His dimples flashed. "Does it matter?"
Couldn't he answer a straight question? "It matters to me."
After a sigh, he said, "Yeah, I pulled some strings and asked them to consider you for the job."
"But there weren't any positions available." Or had they just told her that because they didn't think she'd fit?
"New shows will start in the next few months and one of the makeup artists is about to go on maternity leave. Dave, the owner of Studio Four, said he was going to advertise for the positions next week."
"Oh." She couldn't give up the coffee shop for maternity cover, could she?
As if reading her mind, or the disappointment on her face, he added, "I told them you'd be applying for one of the permanent posts."
Could he read her mind, or was she really that transparent? She wiped all emotion from her face—a skill she'd learned in LA—and offered him a polite smile.
He leaned forward and placed his palms on the granite counter. Chloe's eyes widened when she took in the size of them. The man was huge. Warmth trickled through her veins and she quickly pushed the thought away. It did no good to wonder whether he was in proportion all over. She met his gaze with her chin held high.
"And if I get the job, how do you know I won't back out?"
Sander's lips curved in a way that should be illegal. A tingle skittered down her spine and licked hotter in her belly.
"A favor for a favor? You don't seem like the kind of girl who'd back out of a deal."
No, she wasn't, she was loyal to the point of stupidity. Even to those who didn't deserve it…like Dane.
"No, I'm not." Chloe took a deep breath. "Why me, Sander?" She didn't think sir, or Mr. Chase, would be appropriate considering he'd asked her out twice now.
His smile brightened and her heart stuttered. "I don't have time to date. Work is crazy and I'll be back on the show in a few months. I'll probably be on tour with the band late into the year. You don't want more than I'm offering, so you're perfect for this."
Sander shrugged, as if that explained everything. Chloe supposed it did. He really didn't want
anything more than a woman on his arm for show.

Buy links:
Amazon UK / Amazon US / Barnes & Noble / All Romance Ebooks / Beachwalk Press

Author Info

For as long as I can remember, I've had a good book in my hands. In primary school I loved Roald Dahl. In high school my English teacher introduced me to Charles Dickens, Stephen King, Jane Austin, Emily Bronte, and Shakespeare. It was then that I discovered my love for romance and I've wanted to pen my own imaginary heroes and heroines for others to enjoy ever since. Only in the last few years was I lucky enough to meet some fabulous and encouraging people to help me gain the skills to make that dream possible.
I live in sunny Scotland in a small town near the Ochils and work nine to five in a solicitors office. In my free time, you'll find me on Facebook, stalking *cough* following friends on Twitter, and may even catch me shoe shopping.
Feel free to follow me on Twitter, or my blog, or add me on Facebook

Friday, 26 April 2013

Finally Found by Nicole Andrews Moore, Cover Reveal


Where one story ends, often another begins. For some reason, Adam Davenport can’t see past the ending. The hit and run has forced him to slow down and stop running from the pain of losing his parents. He has tried to hide behind meaningless, superficial relationships and even more shallow friendships, but the time has come to face his loneliness. Now he is finally ready to start being a family with his brother Sam. However, Sam and Haley, who was once Sam’s personal assistant, are too busy basking in their newfound love. Though breaking the rules for the first time ever has changed Sam’s life for the better, Adam has always broken the rules, strayed from responsibility, and done as little as he could get away with.

One of the main reasons that he refused to believe that Cammie was more than friend material was because she was impervious to his charms. She was so driven and determined to make her new catering company a success that she couldn’t see past her own dreams. Suddenly, Adam found himself behaving in ways he never imagined. He was working to impress a woman, but more than that, he was working to help make her dreams come true. He soon realizes that there are times in life when giving is more important than taking and when helping someone else is more important than what that person can do to reciprocate. He also learns there are times that the biggest risk is to stop hiding from emotions and to start allowing love to finally be found.

Author Info

Nicki has lived in Charlotte, North Carolina with her children for the past eleven years and her husband for the past three years.  Her journey has barely begun and she loves every minute of it.  Every day of her life seems to bring new adventures, some bigger, better, shinier and prettier than others.  She's still getting used to that new life smell she's experiencing, a combination of hope, love, and happiness.  (The perfect scents to build a new life on...)

For fun, she spends time with those she cares about, cooks, reads, writes, and especially lives to travel.  The current travel goal: visit every Margaritaville.  Two down!  (Eleven to go?)

In addition to writing on Suddenly Single Journey, Nicki is a contributor for Project Underblog.  Her writing can also be found on Shine, where she is a Shine Parenting Guru and an award winning Yahoo! Contributor on YourWisdom as the relationship and dating expert.  And she has been published by McClatchy News in their syndicated papers.

Author Links"

Friday, 19 April 2013

Charmeine by Emily Guido


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Can romance develop between a Heavenly Light-Bearer and a Hellish Vampire Blood-Hunter? Tabbruis is an extremely attractive Blood-Hunter who has reconciled himself to be alone forever. Over millennia Tabbruis has wandered the Earth alone, aimlessly living through many historical events. Charleen (aka Charmeine) was found in 1997 as a teenager, unable to remember where she was from or where her family was. She was sent to an orphanage where she met her best friend, Shane. With determination, she works hard and becomes a school teacher. Tabbruis comes to her aid when she is attacked by a Blood-Hunter. Charmeine’s power as a Light-Bearer, one who throws lightning, is triggered when she meets Tabbruis, and it grows exponentially. When they meet, the attraction is immediate, romantic and passionate. They are polar opposites and clash together in a dramatic way. Will Charmeine and Tabbruis fulfill their destinies? Will they realize their importance in both the Blood-Hunter and Light-Bearer world?

RAVE REVIEWS for “Charmeine” by Author Emily Guido
Romance between a Vampire and a light bearer is something so new, I had to read this book to find out what the buzz and feel is all about …
All I can say is that book didn't disappoint at all! A must read!”
Fathima Amiruddin
This is a great read, and a terrific debut novel!”
Susan Ashcraft
The author's story got me hooked. I think the readers will feel the same.”
Carol Fitzpatrick
This story is a fantastically tender, romantic one of timeless love.
This story is well worth a read!”
Melanie Adkins
The scenes were beautifully described and the plot is creative and intriguing.
The Light-Bearer Series is sure to be the next fabulous Angel series on your
To-Read” shelf!”
Well done Emily, this is a great debut novel!”
Samantha Adams  

Emily Guido is a new Paranormal Romance Author. She was inspired to start writing "Charmeine" because one day she got an idea of two characters that needed to have their story told. Not ever dreaming a week later she would have over a 100,000 words written. When Emily writes, it is similar to you or I watching a movie. She pictures the characters in her head going through vivid descriptions of each scene. There are so many nuances going through her mind that she cannot type fast enough. The novels “Mactus,” “Accendo,” “Seditious,” and “Ransom,” are the continuation of the wonderful adventures of the inhabitants of The Castle Charmeine! Emily is currently writing “Conundrum” the Sixth Novel in “The Light-Bearer Series” She works at a College full time, and pursuing her Master of Business Administration. YA, PNR, Paranormal Romance, Vampire, Angels, Action and Adventure, Historical
Links: Website Goodreads Twitter Facebook

Thursday, 18 April 2013

Homerun by Ruth Roberts

Today I'm very excited to be have Ruth Roberts here with her new release Homerun.


Cynthiana, beautiful, intelligent, and by all appearances, a spoiled socialite, finds herself as chair of the Inner City Youth League Charity Gala. Her Co-Chair, Roberto Luque, is Major League Baseball’s newest playboy from the Domincan Republic. Far from being in the League of men her parents expect her to choose from, which is just fine with her since she has sworn off playboys. But, as they work together she discovers his devotion to the inner city children and wonders if there is more to him than his playboy reputation. Will she break her no playboy rule long enough to find out?

Roberto fought his way into the Majors. Now, a successful pitcher for the Texas Rangers, he is living the life he always dreamed of. Until he faces off with a bad-tempered, blue-eyed, red head that is not his type. So, why is he drawn to her? The Charity Gala gives him a chance to find out. What he finds beneath that socialite veneer captivates him, heart and soul.

When her powerful father threatens to tear them apart, destroying not only their love, but also Roberto’s hard won career, will he be willing to give it all up for love?



Copyright © 2012 Ruth Roberts

How could she have been talked into this? She was in way over her head. Cynthiana Davenport did not plan fundraiser Gala’s, she attended them. So how is it that she was now head of the planning committee? And for baseball of all things. She didn’t even like baseball, much less know anything about it. So what if her best friend had married a hunky major league baseball player last year. Just because Stacy had to learn about the sport didn’t mean she did. She was going to call her right now and tell her the deal was off. Someone else would have to take her place.

Cynthiana dug her phone out of her purse and was about to hit speed dial when she sighed in resignation and threw it back into her purse. Stacy was seven months pregnant with twins and on total bed rest. She couldn’t back out, Stacy didn’t need that kind of stress. The Gala was only a month away and everything was practically done. It would be a piece of cake. She could do this. Besides, it was only a big party and if there was one thing she was good at it was throwing parties. Sure, this one was a little larger than she was used to but hey, how much trouble could five hundred wealthy people and athletes be?

Not nearly as much trouble as managing her growing feelings for one very gorgeous, very charming baseball player with deep brown eyes and a killer smile who just happened to be her right hand on the planning committee. Roberto Luque. If she could just ignore his adorable dimples she might get through the next few hours. Roberto was a playboy and she didn’t date playboys. Ever. So she would just have to keep her feelings under tight control until the night was over. She had managed to do just that every time they had seen each other over the past year. Admittedly, it had been getting harder and harder, especially since he seemed to be stepping up the charm. A man like Roberto knew very well when a woman was attracted to him, but she was determined not to be one of them. So far she had been safe by provoking some sort of argument with him any time they were together, that usually cooled things down, but she hadn’t been able to do that since they started working together on the Gala. Thankfully they wouldn’t be alone, the rest of the committee would be there too. Which was a good thing since they were meeting at her house. Heaven only knew what would happen if the two of them were alone in a house together. Spontaneous combustion came to mind.

Her two story, red brick house on twenty-five acres in a small Dallas suburb gave her the privacy of having a slice of country while still close to the city. Deciding they would be more comfortable working in the living room she finished laying out the last of the Chinese food boxes on the coffee table. The door bell rang. Refusing to glance in the mirror by the door, she opened it to find Roberto. Just Roberto. It was dangerous to womankind for one man to be so handsome. That mischievous look in his dark eyes, a touch of humor on his full lips, dark tendrils of hair curled on his forehead and at his nape. How is it that the sight of him made her feel light headed? Get a grip girl, he’s only a man.

"Hi Princesa. I brought the wine and the guest lists as you ordered."

"I don’t order, I request." Defensive mode was her method of survival around him. She stepped back and let him in.

Roberto stood just inside and surveyed her house. Lots of windows let in plenty of sunlight. Sheer red curtains over white slatted blinds complemented the white carpeting and black leather sectional with red and white throw pillows scattered over it. Why was it so important that he like her home?

With a smile and a shake of his head Roberto said, "Nice. It suits you. Fiery yet warm. By the way, Jennifer and Raquel won’t be able to make it tonight." He set the wine bottle on the table next to the wine glasses and the manila folder containing the guest lists on the sofa.

So much for her well laid plans. "Why not? We have a lot to do tonight, and why didn’t they call me?" She wanted to stomp her foot like a child. Fortunately, she was able to control that urge. Unfortunately her face felt as hot as stoked fire. Darn, why did she have such pale skin? Was it anger or the thought of being alone with him? Anger, definitely anger.

"Because they called me," Roberto replied. "Between the two of us we can get everything done. Not to worry Princesa, hard work is not hazardous to your health."

"I know that Roberto. Why do you insist on thinking I haven’t worked a day in my life?"

"I never said that. Now let’s eat, I’m starving."

The man was impossible. Maybe she’d just send him home and do all the work herself. The idea had merit. She plopped down on the sofa as far away from him as possible and still reach the food. She ignored his knowing smile and shake of his head as she picked up a box of her favorite sweet and sour pork. Who cared if he thought she was a chicken for wanting to keep distance between them.

He poured them each a glass of wine and sat down next to her. He scooted closer to her as he handed her a glass. Now he seemed to ignore her scowl as he took a sip of wine, set down his glass and chose his own box.

"You’re always starving," she said a few bites later, "it must be some sort of rule for athletes that they can eat whatever they want and still look great."

"You think I look great?"

Darn! Why did she have to say something to make him smile? There were those dimples again. Heat started creeping up her neck and face, the telltale signs of a blush coming on. Be more careful with your words!

"All athletes look great, it’s not just you. Don’t let your head get too big, if it gets any bigger we won’t both fit on the sofa, I’ll find myself on the floor."

He put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her to his side. "Don’t worry, there will always be a place for you by my side."

His teasing tone turned serious causing her to look up at him. He stared down at her, his expression unreadable. Was he joking? Was he serious? She couldn’t tell and her heart was doing funny little flip flops, his fingers stroking seductively up and down her arm weren’t helping either.


Author Bio

Ruth Roberts has worked in public relations for fifteen years. She lives in Texas with her very own romantic hero of eighteen years, their teenage daughter and their dog, Kimi. Her hobbies are reading romance novels and writing them. Her family says she is addicted to books, in her opinion that’s not a bad addiction to have. You can find her on Facebook or on the web at You can also email her at She loves hearing from fans.


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Thank you all for reading! To follow the rest of the tour click here!

Tuesday, 16 April 2013

Music and Lyrics

I keep hearing other authors talking about soundtracks to their books, and I kind of just thought that this was the songs people listened to while they were writing. I used to listen to music while I wrote, but since having children, I normally write when they’re in bed, so I have to be as quite as possible. (I’ve even learned how to tap the keyboard quickly without making hardly any sound, lol) when I tried to write to music again, I really couldn’t concentrate, and that made me sad, because I felt like I’d lost the bond between music and my books. But then just the other day, I reached a point in a story where nothing I wrote seemed right. I had to walk away and try and do something else for a while, hoping inspiration would hit and I could go back again later. What was the first thing I did? Without even thinking I put my I-pod on shuffle and let the magic of music do its work. That’s when I realised how important music is to me and my muses. Without the lyrics of some of my favourite songs, some of the best scenes in my books probably wouldn’t exist. A simple line can spark an idea for a whole new plot and music can put you in the right frame of mind to write the scenes that you’ve been stuck on. So you learn a little every day, and this week I’ve definitely learned that a soundtrack is definitely more important than I realised, and even if I never knew it before, my books definitely have them!

Monday, 15 April 2013

Sidney Shelton's The Tides of Memory by Tilly Bagshawe



On the surface the De Vere family appear to have it all: Wealth, political power, and idyllic life split between their London mansion, Oxfordshire country house and their idyllic, sprawling Martha’s Vineyard estate.

But beneath the gilded façade, and the family’s apparently watertight bonds with one another, lie many secrets, some of them deadly. When the mistakes of youth refuse to stay buried, and generation old hatreds resurface, the De Veres find themselves on the brink of losing everything. How far will each of them go to conceal the truth and protect the family?

Author Info

The late novelist and screenwriter Sidney Sheldon remains one of the world’s top bestselling authors, having sold more than 300 million copies of his books. ARE YOU AFRAID OF THE DARK? was his most recent in a long line of huge hits on bestseller lists everywhere. He is also the only writer to have won an Oscar, a Tony, and an Edgar. THE GUINNESS BOOK OF WORLD RECORDS heralds him as the most translated author in the world.

Tilly Bagshawe is a New York Times Bestselling author. She lives in Los Angeles, California, and London with her husband and children.





"Was there anything else, Home Secretary?"

Alexia De Vere smiled. Home Secretary. Surely the most beautiful two words in the English language. Except forPrime Minister, of course. The Tory party’s newest superstar laughed at herself. One step at a time, Alexia.

"No thank you Edward. I’ll call if I need you."

Sir Edward Manning nodded briefly and left the room. A senior civil servant in his early sixties and bastion of the Westminster political establishment, Sir Edward Manning was as tall and grey and rigid as a matchstick. In the coming months, Sir Edward would be Alexia De Vere’s constant companion: advising, cautioning, expertly guiding her through the maze of Home Office politics. But right now, in these first few hours in the job, Alexia De Vere wanted to be alone. She wanted to savor the sweet taste of victory without an audience. To sit back and revel in the profound thrill of power.

After all, she’d earned it.

Getting up from her desk, she paced around her new office, a vast eyrie of a room perched high in one of the baroque towers of the Palace of Westminster. The interior design was more functional than fabulous. A matching pair of ugly brown sofas at one end (those must go), a simple desk and chair at the other, and a bookcase stuffed with dusty, un-read tomes of political history. But none of that mattered once you saw the view. Spectacular didn’t begin to cover it. Floor to ceiling windows provided a panoramic vista of London, from the towers of Canary Wharf in the east to the mansions of Chelsea in the west. It was a view that said one thing and one thing only.


And it was all hers.

I am theHome Secretary of Great Britain. The second most important member of Her Majesty’s Government.

How had it happened? How had a junior prisons minister, and a deeply unpopular one at that, leapfrogged so many other senior candidates to land the big job? Poor Kevin Lomax over at Trade & Industry must be spitting yellow, coffee-stained teeth. The thought made Alexia De Vere feel warm inside. Patronizing old fossil. He wrote me off years ago, but who’s laughing now?

Pilloried in the press for being wealthy, aristocratic and out-of-touch with ordinary voters, and dubbed the new Iron Lady by the tabloids, Alexia De Vere’’s sentencing reform bill had been savaged by MPs on both sides of the house for being ‘compassionless’ and ‘brutal.’ No parole sentences might work in America, a country so barbaric they still had the death penalty. But they weren’t going to fly here, in civilized Great Britain.

That’s what theysaid. But when push came to shove, they’d all voted the bill through.

Cowards. Cowards and hypocrites the lot of them.

Alexia De Vere knew how unpopular the bill had made her, with colleagues, with the media, with lower income voters. So she was as shocked as everyone else when the Prime Minister, Henry Whitman, chose to appoint her as his Home Secretary. But she didn’t dwell on it. The fact was, Henry Whitmanhad appointed her. At the end of the day that was all that mattered.

Reaching into a box, Alexia pulled out some family photographs. She preferred to keep her work and home lives separate, but these days everyone was so touchy-feely, having pictures of one’s children on one’s desk had become de rigeur.

There was her daughter Roxie at eighteen, her blonde head thrown back, laughing. How Alexia missed that laugh. Of course, the picture had been taken before the accident.

The accident Alexia De Vere hated the euphemism for her daughter’s suicide attempt, a three story leap that had left Roxie wheelchair bound for the rest of her life. In Alexia’s view, one should call a spade a spade. But Alexia’s husband, Teddy insisted on it. Dear Teddy. He always was a soft touch.

Placing her husband’s photograph next to their daughter’s, Alexia smiled. An unprepossessing, paunchy middle aged man, with thinning hair and permanently ruddy cheeks, Teddy De Vere beamed at the camera like a lovable bear.

How different my life would have been without him. How much, how very much, I owe him.

Of course, Teddy De Vere was not the only man to whom Alexia owed her good fortune. There was Henry Whitman, the new Tory Prime Minister and Alexia’s self-appointed political mentor. And somewhere, far, far away from here, there was another man. A good man. A man who had helped her.

But she mustn’t think about that man. Not now. Not today.

Today was a day of triumph and celebration. It was no time for regrets.

The third picture was of Alexia’s son, Michael. What an insanely beautiful boy he was, with his dark curls and slate-grey eyes and that mischievous smile that melted female hearts from a thousand paces. Sometimes Alexia thought that Michael was the only person on earth she had ever loved unconditionally. Roxie ought to fall into that category too, but after everything that had happened between them, the bad blood had poisoned the relationship beyond repair

After the photographs it was time for the congratulations cards, which had been arriving in a steady stream since Alexia’s shock appointment was announced two days earlier. Most of them were dull, corporate affairs sent by lobbyists or constituency hangers-on. They had pictures of popping champagne bottles or dreary floral still-lifes. But one card in particular immediately caught Alexia’s eye. Against a stars and stripes background, the words ‘YOU ROCK!" were emblazoned in garish gold. The message inside read:

Congratulations, darling Alexia! SO excited and SO proud of you. All my love, Lucy!!!! xxx’

Alexia De Vere grinned. She had very few female friends – very few friends of any kind, in fact - but Lucy Meyer was the exception that proved the rule. A neighbor from Martha’s Vineyard, where the De Veres owned a summer home – Teddy had fallen in love with the island whilst at Harvard Business School - , Lucy Meyer had become almost like a sister. Lucy was a traditional home-maker, albeit of the uber-wealthy variety, and as American as apple pie. Alternately motherly and child-like, she was the sort of woman who used a lot of exclamation points in emails and wrote her I’s with full circles instead of dots on the top. To say that Lucy Meyer and Alexia De Vere had little in common would be like saying that Israel and Palestine didn’t always see exactly eye to eye. And yet the two women’s friendship, forged over so many blissful summers on Martha’s Vineyard, had survived all the ups and downs of Alexia’s crazy political life.

Standing by the window, Alexia gazed down at the Thames. From up here the river looked benign and stately, a softly flowing ribbon of silver snaking its silent way through the city. But down below, Alexia knew, its currents could be deadly. Even now, at fifty nine years of age and at the pinnacle of her career, Alexia De Vere couldn’t look at water without feeling a shudder of foreboding. She twisted her wedding ring nervously.

How easily it can all be washed away! Power, happiness, even life itself. It only takes an instant, a single unguarded instant. And it’s gone.

Her phone buzzed loudly.

"Sorry to disturb you Home Secretary. But I have Ten Downing Street on line one . I assume you’ll take the Prime Minister’s call?"

Alexia De Vere shook her head, willing the ghosts of the past away.

"Of course Edward. Put him through."

South of the river, less than a mile from Alexia De Vere’s opulent Westminster office but a world apart, Gilbert Drake sat in Maggie’s café, hunched over his egg and beans. A classic British ‘greasy spoon’, complete with grime encrusted windows and a peeling linoleum floor, Maggie’s was a popular haunt for cabbies and builders on their way to work on the more affluent north side of the river. Gilbert Drake was a regular. Most mornings he was chatty and full of smiles. But not today. Staring at the picture in his newspaper as if he’d seen a ghost, he pressed his hands to his temples.

This can’t be happening.

How is this happening?

There she was, that bitch Alexia De Vere, smiling for the camera as she shook hands with the Prime Minister. Gilbert Drake would never forget that face as long as he lived. The proud, jutting jaw, the disdainful curl of the lips, the cold, steely glint of those blue eyes, as pretty and empty and heartless as a doll’s. The caption beneath the picture read ‘Britain’s new Home Secretary starts work.’

Reading the article was painful, like picking at a newly healed scab, but Gilbert Drake forced himself to go on.

In an appointment that surprised many at Westminster and wrong footed both the media and the bookies, junior prisons minister Alexia De Vere was named as the new Home Secretary yesterday. The Prime Minister, Henry Whitman, has described Mrs De Vere as ‘a star’ and ‘a pivotal figure’ in his new look cabinet. Kevin Lomax, the Secretary of State for Trade and Industry, who had been widely tipped to replace Humphrey Crewe at the home office after his resignation in March, told reporters he was ‘delighted’ to hear of Mrs De Vere’s appointment and that he ‘hugely looked forward’ to working with her.’

Gilbert Drake closed his newspaper in disgust.

Gilbert’s best friend Sanjay Patel was dead because of that bitch. Sanjay who had protected Gilbert from the bullies at school and on their Peckham public housing. Sanjay who’d worked hard all his life to put food on his family’s table, and faced all life’s disappointments with a smile. Sanjay who’d been imprisoned, wrongly imprisoned, set up by the police, simply for trying to help a cousin to escape persecution. Sanjay was dead. While that whore, that she-wolf Alexia De Vere, was riding high, the toast of London.

It was not to be borne. Gilbert Drake would not bear it.

The righteous will be glad when they are avenged, when they bathe their feet in the blood of the wicked.

Maggie, the café’s eponymous proprietress, refilled Gilbert’s mug of tea. "Eat up, Gil. Your egg’s going cold."

Gilbert Drake didn’t hear her.

All he heard were his friend Sanjay Patel’s voice begging for mercy.

Charlotte Whitman, the Prime Minister’s wife, rolled over in bed and stroked her husband’s chest. It was four in the morning and Henry was awake, again, staring at the ceiling like a prisoner waiting for the firing squad.

"What is it Henry? What’s the matter?"

Henry Whitman covered his wife’s hand with his.

"Nothing. I’m not sleeping too well, that’s all. Sorry if I woke you."

"You would tell me if there were a problem, wouldn’t you?"

"Darling Charlotte." He pulled her close. "I’m the Prime Minister. My life is nothing but problems as far as the eye can see."

"You know what I mean. I mean a real problem. Something you can’t handle."

"I’m fine, darling, honestly. Try and go back to sleep."

Soon Charlotte Whitman was slumbering soundly. Henry watched her, her words ringing in his ears.Something you can’t handle…

Thanks to him, Alexia De Vere’s face was on the front page of every newspaper. Speculation about her appointment was rife, but no one knew anything. No one except Henry Whitman. And he intended to take the secret to his grave.

Was Alexia De Vere a problem that he couldn’t handle? Henry Whitman sincerely hoped not. Either way it was too late now. The appointment was made. The deed was done.

Britain’s new Prime Minister lay awake until dawn, just as he knew he would.

No rest for the wicked.

Thank you all for reading! To follow the rest of the tour follow this link

Tuesday, 9 April 2013

Dangerous Refuge by Elizabeth Lowell

Hello everybody! Please welcome Elizabeth Lowell who is stopping here today as part of her virtual book tour for Dangerous Refuge!


Beautiful, sweet Shaye and dark, dangerous Tanner don’t have a lot in common. He’s a suspicious big city cop come home to his family’s ranch and she’s a bleeding heart who works for a group that seeks out ranches to conserve after the owners have passed away.
But the suspicious death of Tanner’s uncle at his ranch throws the two opposites together and sparks fly.
Working as a pair, using Shay’s sweet personality and town connections, as well as Tanner’s experience, they set out to find justice - they never expected to find love along the way as well.
They both say it will just be temporary but when Shay is put in danger, Tanner realizes that he’ll give up just about anything to save the woman he loves. But will he have to sacrifice his life to save hers?

Author Info

Elizabeth Lowell’s many remarkable historical and contemporary novels include New York Times bestsellers, Forget Me Not, Only Love, A Woman Without Lies, Autumn Lover and Winter Fire. Amber Beach, Jade Island, Pearl Cove and Midnight in Ruby Bayou were also instant New York Times bestsellers. Ms. Lowell has more than twenty million books in print. She lives in Nevada with her husband with whom she writes mystery novels under a pseudonym.


Thank you all for reading! To follow the rest of the tour click here!

Saturday, 6 April 2013

Sinful Saturday: The Best of Both Worlds

Hello everybody, hope you're having a wonderful Saturday! Today I'm going to be sharing a few sinful sentences from my newest release The Best of Both Worlds.


"I’m sorry that I’ve dragged you into all this. My life is pretty screwed up right now. But I should go." Melissa pulled back. She had every intention of leaving, but Riley didn’t let her out of his embrace.

"You’re not going anywhere," he whispered softly. He was smiling gently now, and it was comforting. Melissa leaned her body against his, breathing in his glorious scent as he lowered his mouth to hers. His kiss was like rose petals against her lips.

Intrigued? I sure hope so! If you want to find out what Riley's been dragged into then you can get hold of my book here!

Don't forget to check out what other authors are taking part in today's Sinful Saturday!


Friday, 5 April 2013

Naked Treats by Pepper Anthony

Hi Readers! I’m excited to be celebrating the Second Anniversary of my first novella, NAKED TREATS. And I’m glad to be Emily’s guest today, and to offer NAKED TREATS on sale for just 99 cents all month at all online outlets. I’m also doing a giveaway. For your chance to win, see details at the end of this post.


Official Blurb

How does a newly graduated culinary student distinguish herself in a city full of experienced personal chefs? Rose Phelps cooks for her private clients in the nude. Her favorite client is sexy and successful Zack Cranston, a confirmed bachelor. The more he’s around Rose, the harder it is for Zack to resist her naked charms. Still, he figures all he needs is one night between the sheets with her and he’ll be over it. 

Up till now, Rose has ignored his teasing advances; she’s dead set on keeping things all business between them. Then unexpected circumstances cause their emotional and personal boundaries to crumble. Will one night of smoking hot sex lead Zack and Rose to heartbreak and pain, or the possibility of a whole new future together? 
WARNING: The following excerpt contains adult content. By reading further, you certify that you are at least 18 years of age.

Spicy Excerpt


He’d crossed the line just now, yes. But could you blame a guy? She’d stuck that delectable finger of hers right in his face.
To be honest, there were other delectable parts that he’d much rather have captured. Those parts are what had no doubt given him the erection. There were her lush red lips, which had been only inches away from his. Not to mention her naked breasts swinging soft and full as she’d beaten the eggs. Oh how he longed to close his mouth around one of her firm pink nipples.
Setting the bottle down, he swirled the liquor against the edge of the glass and then turned around. She was carefully filling the ramekins with hot custard, pretending to ignore him. Fine. As long as she didn’t put on her coat and leave in a huff, he hadn’t totally blown it with her.
He let out a long, slow breath. Okay. He’d bide his time for now; he’d continue to play the game her way. After all, he did have a reputation for his nerves of steel, his cool control, even under the most severe pressure. He was confident that her reserve would thaw, contract or no, and he’d have her between the sheets. He’d seen the way her pupils dilated and heard the catch in her breath. Hell, her nipples were hard as buttons right now, and not because of a chill in the air. He’d bet his BMW she was just as turned on as he was.
Yeah, one hot night together. That’s all he needed. He’d fuck her till she couldn’t stand up. They’d part as friends. She’d be out of his system for good then.
But she’d also be out of his kitchen. That knowledge stabbed through him, then he laughed at himself. The city was full of personal chefs he could hire. God knows he didn’t really need a naked one. 
Zack retreated to his favorite recliner in the living room and clicked on the television. From here, he only had to cant his head a few degrees to see what Rose was doing now. Something with lettuce and lemons. Then she turned to the wall oven and opened it to look in at the desserts, allowing him a perfect view of her curvy ass framed by the ties of the apron. His cock responded immediately. A whole new scenario began to play through his mind. Rose, bent forward over the island, her elegant pussy impaled from behind on his thrusting cock.
Zack flicked blindly through a dozen TV channels. What had ever made him think he could have a naked female parading around his home and not want to fuck her? Especially someone as luscious as Rose? What a crazy, unnatural idea.
And he couldn’t be the only one of her clients dealing with this problem. No doubt most, if not all, of Rose’s clients wanted to fuck her.
Had they all managed to maintain their distance?
Or had she let her guard down for some of them?
An unreasonable streak of something like jealousy twisted in his gut as he pictured another man beside her at the island right now, nibbling her ear, squeezing her breasts, sweeping aside her apron. Helpless, he watched as the Rose of his fantasy dropped her spoon and turned into the embrace of the other man. Her throaty moans pierced him clear through. The stranger took possession of her, laying her back on the counter, spreading those creamy white thighs wide open. 
“Yes! Oh, yes!” Fantasy Rose cried, offering herself up like a delicious gourmet treat. When the make-believe man buried his face in Rose’s pussy, Zack leaped out of his chair and headed back out to the terrace.
The sun had set, throwing its colors onto the neighboring buildings and the lazy river that wound away in the distance. An evening breeze cooled his face. Some kind of small bird lit on the railing and then flitted away. Gradually, Zack came back to reality.
This simply wasn’t going to work.
He couldn’t wait any longer to have her.
He had thought he could, but this relentless pull toward Rose had become stronger than anything he’d ever experienced before. He turned and leaned back against the rail, staring through the glass of the sliding door. She was setting the table. A pair of tapers threw flickering light on the terrain of her face and body as she moved about the room.
An odd sense of yearning spiraled through him; the implications of it stunned him cold.
He wanted her in his bed, yes. God knows he’d wanted to fuck her since the first morning she’d appeared in that sweet little apron of hers.
But he wanted her there in his kitchen, too, setting his table. And he wanted her to look up at him and smile, and then stroll out onto the terrace with her own drink. He wanted her to stand beside him at the railing and watch as the sunset colors faded from the sky. He wanted her long, slim fingers intertwined with his.
Damn. Damn. He was so screwed.
One night with Rose, if she ever did give him the opportunity, wouldn’t be enough.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Intrigued? I hope so! Here’s where you can grab NAKED TREATS on sale during the month of April 2013 for just 99 cents:
Buy it on Amazon here
I’m also giving away a $25 Amazon gift card to one lucky commenter. To leave your comment, you’ll need to go to my website and click on the NAKED TREATS 2nd ANNIVERSARY tab at the top of the website. Here’s a link to that page.
Thanks so much for stopping by Emily’s website today and for reading my excerpt! ~ Pepper