Aine P. Massie

Today I have a fellow Rom-Critter celebrating her latest release. Please help me welcome Anie P. Massie and read on to learn more about her books. Great to have you Aine.

Hello ladies and gents, Áine here. Let me start by thanking Karen of Books and More… for graciously allowing me to take over her site for this special event.

Blood Marked-cover-chbbBlood Marked

(The House Millar series, Book 2)

by Áine P Massie

With their romance only beginning to take root, the trio, Anya, Nicholas and Declán set forth to enrich their fledgling relationship. Having survived the explosive consummation should have set forth a downtime of sorts, instead, near death tragedies strike all around.

That should have been the worst of it, but toss the green-eyed monster of jealousy and all bets are off that anyone will survive the fire consuming them all.

Can Anya protect her lovers, find peace within herself, and lead the House Millar from tragedy to peace? Or will those waiting in the wings to strike them down win?

Come take a walk with our loving family and witness the strange turns and twists as life, love, and passions collide with greed, politics, and evil.


housemillerAmazon | Goodreads 





Nicholas perked up, putting on his best Cheshire cat grin. “We do have some good news, if you’re interested.”

Both girls perked up tremendously at both his words and tone. I was curious about what he was going to tell them that warranted his sudden excitement. Geoff laughed looking at Nicholas in that intense way that signalled one of their private conversations. Nicholas leaned forward, dropping his voice so low I was not entirely certain that Kayla and Skye would hear him, “Dec and I proposed to Anya.” He didn’t continue, letting his words sink in. He was having way too much fun.

The girls looked at each other, their faces going from confused to excited before either spoke again. “And?” they both squeaked.

“Don’t know that I should tell you without Dec here,” he teased. Poor Geoff was trying, vainly, to keep a straight face. Somehow it seemed surreal that he would tell them without Declán, but maybe they had discussed it already. Declán did know they planned to hang out today.

Kayla–sweet, shy, gentle child that she was–leaned forward, taking a hold of Nicholas’s shirt, pulled him forward slightly, putting her face inches from his and with a sternness I had never heard from her asked again, “And?”

His grin got worse as he shot forward too fast for her to even flinch, kissed her on the tip of her nose, and announced, “She said yes.”


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whiteroseanya-transparentÁine P Massie is originally from Florida, she now lives in Wisconsin, where she works on her House Millar series full-time while raising four children (the term herding cats comes to mind). Her major in College was Childhood Education (specializing in ages zero to five) with a minor study in Deaf Culture/ASL. She is also a Wiccan priestess dedicated to the gods, family, and love.


Áine is a proud member of the Rom-Critters, the Romance Writers of America®, Celtic Hearts Romance Writers, and Rainbow Romance Writers. Áine has always had a particular fascination with vampires, mythology, and the unusual. When she can escape from her children and books, she enjoys… oh yes, reading, playing, ritual, a good cappuccino, and working with her healing stones.


Her first published work came in high school where she was part of a writing and drama group. However, she’s been reading the likes of Shakespeare and Poe since late elementary school and enjoys most forms of fiction.


Site | Blog | Facebook ~ House Millar | Facebook ~ Author


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Samanthya Wyatt

Today I am excited to welcome Samanthya Wyatt to showcase her new release “Something More” and discover some more about her with an interview.


updatedSomethingMore600Something More

A determined man, a headstrong woman, and a battle of wills.


Hello Karen. Thank you for inviting me. I’m very excited to have joined the list of published authors.

 Tell us a little about your writing journey.

Ever since I can remember, I have loved curling up with a book. When I was young I wrote poems and short stories. When I graduated, my life changed. I married a military man, traveled across the US and abroad, then settled in the Shenandoah Valley and had a family. Then I found romance novels. I fell in love with the characters and needed to know their happy ending.

As a fan, I wrote to different authors and was advised to join RWA (Romance Writers of America.) Now I am a RWA member, joined several chapters including Contemporary Romance Chapter, and I’m a member of Savvy Authors.

Once a year Savvy Authors offers a pitch contest with several editors, agents and publishers. Coming up with a pitch—25 words or less—is extremely difficult when your in a group with thousands of other authors. But I got the attention of 3 editors and two different publishing companies. My dream paid off. I signed my first contract with Soul Mate Publishing.

 Why did you choose to write in this genre? Have you ever written any other genre? Do you plan on doing so in the future?

Dashing Lords and pirates seemed so romantic, so my first book was written in historical genre. One day I was playing around to get my mind off edits and I wrote a scene with two women bantering back and forth. I had so much fun and the words seemed to flow. So I ended up writing my first contemporary Something More. Modern day women have more freedom, and my wit seems to come out more with contemporary. I have started several stories including a hunky fireman series. Station Eight. Can’t wait to get those published.

Who is your favorite character in your book and why?
I love my hero, just because hunky men are sexy and dark hair has always been my favorite. However, I love a strong heroine and Carrie is strong. Her assistant may deserve a book of her own. And her friend is a no-nonsense, anything goes sort of girl. I guess I like all my characters. I’m so indecisive. About everything in my personal life, too. It takes me forever to pick out a pair of shoes.

What is your favorite part of writing?

Coming up with the characters and their traits. Everyone wants a strong – tall dark and handsome – hero. The trick is not making them all look the same. I do character sheets on my hero and heroines. Then I have to refer back to those sheets throughout the MS so I don’t goof.

What is your least favorite part of writing?

Getting started. Seems like I procrastinate a bit. Takes me forever to get settled in. Then I have so many ideas I can’t get them on paper fast enough.

What are you most proud of about your writing?

That I never stopped. I get a lot of joy from creating new characters and bringing them together in a romantic tale. It took years of putting words on paper, joining RWA, joining other chapters, entering contests, submissions, rejections. Every one of these things created the author I am today. Keeping my spirit and turning criticism into drive.

What advice would you give an aspiring writer?

No# 1.  Join RWA. From there you learn to do a number of things. You can join chapter groups, critique groups, you’ll find friends and receive a lot of help. Take every workshop offered—GMC, POV, character interviews, etc. Believe me, you’ll be glad you did. Enter contests and keep your mind open. Take criticism as constructive. Make your writing better. Don’t expect success overnight. It is a long, hard process. If you are determined, keep trying. Don’t give up.

Tell us a little about your current or upcoming release: your inspiration, main characters, setting, etc.

On his way to an important meeting, a light flirtation turns into more than Matthew expects. The alluring beauty does not need his money, and makes it clear she does not need him.

Carrie trusts no man. Until a pair of mischievous eyes melts her defenses, and has her second guessing her convictions.

Infatuation and excitement spark a journey of passion and forbidden emotion where two people must overcome their earlier convictions to find an everlasting love.

What do you do in your spare time?

 What spare time? LOL. I keep the road hot. I go to soccer ball games, baseball games, cheer competition, or just babysit the wee ones.  I just signed another contract so I’ll be hard at it on my computer.

 Any final thoughts you’d like your readers to know about you or your books?

I enjoy penning a story with strong characters, a bit of humor, and active scenes.I invite you to lay the worries of the world off your shoulders and get lost in the pages of a romance, where you embark on a journey with the hero and heroine, become involved in a dream, plunge into a world of fantasy, live an adventure your heart can share.

Now enjoy an excerpt from “Something More.”

 Matthew just got a jolt to his solar plexus. His eyes darted to her mouth. His breathing slowed at the thought of his tongue sliding across and through those daring, full lips. Why was he even considering the idea?

He’d seen her in the airport. A striking female who had his pulses leaping with excited interest. He was a leg man, and she had killer legs. He thought a light flirtation might be just the thing he needed to recover from a frenzied airport. He’d grabbed a last minute flight, got stuck in coach, and had to survive the aircraft from hell. Screaming, undisciplined children only made matters worse with the headache from an already bad day. When he’d seen her dash for the taxi, he immediately decided to take full advantage of the opportunity.

One of the sexiest women he’d ever seen sat mere inches away. True, her long blond hair might be plastered against her lovely head and shoulders, but heat came off her like an inferno. Her shoulders squared like a warrior preparing for battle. Blue-eyed, bottle-blondes were too available, too anxious to be the next one in his bed. This poised creature was about as far from a Barbie doll as one could be. She didn’t need to flaunt her beauty like other self-centered females. In only a few moments, she’d shown self-assurance and a strength many men lacked.

She had blue eyes the color of the bluest sky on any summer day. They sparked fire, yet generated warmth. Her intense scrutiny gave a good kick to his already skipping pulse. The magnetism pulled him in like a fish on a reel that wanted to be caught. At the same time, her look cautioned—don’t be too sure of yourself, for I may throw you back.

It had been a long while since he’d seriously craved a woman. Matthew boldly studied her profile. His creative mind already imagined the possibilities. A kiss on her round little nose. A lingering caress over her smooth cheeks. A nibble on her stubborn chin. His gaze traveled lower to find the clinging wet material molded to her body exposed every curve and valley of sinful bliss.


Air hissed between his teeth as he recalled her beaded nipples poking the front of her soaked blouse. His blood thickened and so did another part of him. He shifted hoping to give the impression he was uncomfortable from sodden clothes.

A soft rush of air brushed his damp face causing his gaze to focus on hers. He’d been caught staring—again. Long brown lashes fanned out around her spearing gaze. Her eyes brightened. Sensuous lips promising delight curled into an evocative smile, parted as if awaiting his kiss, and then she laughed. The throaty sound sent electric shocks of awareness drumming through his system.

His body responded to her in a way it had not stirred in a long time, and he relished the moment. His thoughts clouded as his pulse surged. He needed to explore why this creature enflamed his senses and fueled his desire. Thank God, she had a sense of humor.

“I believe in being a gentleman, no matter what you may have deemed from my actions earlier.” Matthew reluctantly released her hand. “Please forgive me.”

He remembered his sister’s puppy, and how sad little eyes had secured her devotion. Matthew tried for the most pitiful look he could manage, hoping to warrant Carrie’s empathy. “Am I forgiven?” A delicious smile formed on her mouth wrenching his groin. Her intoxicating scent made him long to lean closer. The idea of tasting those sumptuous lips led to other delightful fantasies.

“What kind of female would I be if I left a poor unfortunate man out in the cold, pouring rain without a care to his distress?”

If she only knew.

“Surely you’re not suggesting the kind of female as those during the bra burning era? The ones who refuse to allow a man a simple act such as opening the door for them. That type of female would lock the door at the butcher shop and dangle the steak in front of a starving man looking in the window.” He leaned toward her. “But certainly not you. You, dear lady, have been most kind.”

“Kind that I didn’t throw you out after you manhandled me into this vehicle?”

Mathew gave his most disarming grin. “You must take into account I’m not responsible for my actions. I’d just survived irrational people and belligerent children. I landed in bedlam instead of an airport. Disorderly people turned into an angry mob. Then I was distracted by a most beautiful woman. How can I be blamed for my quick thinking?”

The twinkle in her eyes warmed his sense of humor. His gaze dropped to her mouth. The instinct to kiss her rose-colored lips made him wonder what she would taste like. Cherries? Sweet caramel? He concentrated on their fullness instead of the words coming from her mouth. Her voice exposed confidence and control. Forcing his gaze from temptation, he met her stare. Her eyes sent the message—I will chew you up and spit you out if I want to.

A challenge?

How often was it he actually met someone sexy who didn’t immediately try to seduce him? How long since he’d met a woman smart and entertaining. Not only had she captured his attention, she’d seized his curiosity. And nothing got his adrenaline flowing faster than a hardy challenge.


 Samanthya Wyatt

Please visit my webpage:

You can also find me on Facebook, Goodreads, Amazon, and SMP Authors.

Thank you for your interest. Tell your friends.


Buy links:

 “Something More”

  “The Right One”

Larynn Ford

Today I happy to help Larynn Ford celebrate her release of “Rescued.” 


Fiercely independent and determined to be taken seriously in a man’s world, PI Rose Baxter will do whatever it takes to find the kids who are disappearing from the streets and bring them home safe, even teaming up with PI Marty Brown, a man hot enough to burn whatever part of her gets too close – her fingers, her sheets, her life, and her other nature’s whiskers. 

But her other nature knows whiskers grow back and will accept nothing less than this man as her mate for life, a plan Marty’s all in on. Sparks fly when she refuses to be the little woman. Besides, those kids need her and their time’s running out. But, thrown together 24/7 can she fight it?

Now for an excerpt:

The mattress moaned slightly in response to an unseen and unexpected movement. Her eyes snapped open and focused on the room, moving up, down, side-to-side. She didn’t recognize a single thing in her line of view. A rush of air flooded her lungs in a panicked gasp. She wasn’t where she should be.

            In her own bed.


            Damn. Where am I and how did I end up here? Double damn.

            Her last memory? The bar. Jed’s Place. She’d received a tip from her source at the bar that her suspect had slithered inside. Arriving a few minutes later, she’d kept an eye on him and his cohorts for a couple of hours. Posing as a customer, she’d shot a couple of games of eight ball with some of the regulars.

            Her eyes narrowed. Her head pounded as she recalled the next events.

Nothing stood out until… The asshole from the pool table who’d sidled up way too close behind her and tried to score points by offering shooting tips. She she’d been stretched up on her tiptoes to line up the winning shot.  His groin pressed tight against her bottom. His hands slid down her arms to her wrists as he whispered, “Let me give you a hand there, little lady.”

            Without flinching, she purred, “I’m not little, I’m nobody’s lady, and I don’t need your help.” She slammed the butt end of the cue stick into his ribs, and with the same smooth motion came back to make a perfect shot and win her third game of the night. She straightened from the table with a satisfied grin.

0026Larynn Ford began reading romance in her early teens and became interested in writing in high school. She’s a daydreamer and a romantic who is intrigued by the paranormal and loves to let her mind wander, always searching for a happily ever after ending to her dreams. She began reading with a renewed passion in 2006, fell in love with romance all over again, and began thinking how much fun it would be to create a fantasy world all her own.

In 2009, she began writing down some ideas that actually blossomed to book length. In 2010, she joined Romance Writers of America and now loves spending time with the Southern Magic Chapter in Birmingham, Alabama.

To her delight and constant amazement, her first book, IN MY WILDEST DREAMS was released April 16, 2013. Her desire for more grows constantly. She’s going to keep on writing, dreaming, and searching for those happy ending’s.



Find Larynn : 

twitter: @LarynnFord



Summer colors in the Desert

IMG_1672Today is just a fun post with some pictures I’ve taken. It has finally rained and the desert is blooming. As I sit here and type the frogs are singing outside in celebration of the moisture. 


This lovely plant only blooms when the sun is shining directly on it.


I just love how the fields turned purple for miles.




Add some pink flowers and and the scene is complete. 




Rachel Sharpe

ColdAmbition400“COLD AMBITION” Blurb

It was my life-long dream to become a private eye. Little did I know that with my very first case, that dream would become a life-threatening nightmare…”

When Jordan James decided to embark on a career as a private investigator, she never could have imagined that a chance encounter would lead to her staring down the barrel of a gun on the roof’s edge of a high-rise building. As she begins to investigate her first case, the puzzling murder of a prominent businessman that has left Boston’s finest mystified for more than two decades, she finds herself suddenly immersed in a treacherous underworld brimming with betrayal, raw greed, and political subterfuge of international proportions. In the midst of this, she discovers she is falling for her mysterious client despite the hints of his dark past. Can this feisty Southern girl with a penchant for trouble solve this baffling case or is she doomed to become another tragic chapter in an international conspiracy?

“COLD AMBITION” coming Summer 2014 from Soul Mate Publishing!


Jon closed the door, which was still partially open, and sat down on the couch. He then peered at me sideways. “Have you ever heard of the unsolved murder of David Michaels?”

“No,” I mumbled, trying in vain to fit my fingers between the cast and my arm to scratch a maddening itch. “Is it a big deal?”

“It’s only one of the most fascinating unsolved cases in Boston. People wonder about it just as much as they do about the Gardner Heist of 1990.”

“Well, I’ve heard of that one,” I replied defensively. “Someone stole more than fifteen works of art from the Gardner Museum the day after St. Patrick’s Day in 1990. It’s one of the biggest unsolved art thefts in American history. What happened to this David Michaels guy?”

Jon lifted his shoulders and shrugged. “That’s just it. No one knows. One night in 1989, a couple was killed in an explosion in the Big Dig because they plowed into another car. The other driver was David Michaels. He was a big shot accountant from New York who had worked for a very lucrative international corporation. He had just moved to Boston with his wife and their three-year-old son when he died.”

“I’m sorry, but something doesn’t add up,” I interjected. “There was a car wreck and an explosion. How is this a big mystery? It sounds pretty straightforward to me.”

Jon smiled eerily. “That would seem straightforward except for one detail I left out.”

“What’s that?”

“David Michaels was dead from a bullet wound to the head prior to the explosion.”


“Now you’re interested, aren’t you?”

I was interested. I didn’t know exactly where Jon was going with this story, but I was very interested. I attempted to cross my arms but the cast prevented me from doing so. I held the cast up with my right arm.

“So where does my agency come into this story?”

Jon stood up and walked across the room. He peered through the Venetian blinds at the bustling city below. “My roommate Ricky was David’s son.” He paused and allowed this to sink in, still looking through the blinds. “Ricky mentioned this case often to me. It bothered him that the police never solved it. He said that, according to his mom, they really didn’t try very hard. It was easier just to let it sit there and eventually become a cold case.”

I shook my head. “That doesn’t make any sense, either. It sounds like he’s jumping to a conclusion because he’s emotionally involved in this case. I’m sure the police tried their best to solve the case. Cops don’t just let cases go cold.”

Jon shrugged. “I’m just telling you what he told me.”

I scratched the back of my head and sighed. I was grateful to be able to scratch that itch. “Okay, now that I know the backstory, tell me about our prospective client.”

Jon walked away from the blinds and headed back toward the couch. This time, he sat on the arm of the couch. I grimaced. I hated it when he did that, and he knew as much but didn’t care. “Well, like I said, Ricky emailed me about moving to Boston next summer and wanted to know if I would be willing to room again. I said that that would be cool. So, he emailed me back and thanked me and asked how my career as an actor was going. I responded ‘not so well,’ but I had a job working for a P.I.”

I peered at him sideways, and it finally dawned on me why he gave me Ricky Michaels’ backstory. “No . . .”

He stood up and smiled. “Yes.”

“Jon, are you telling me that Ricky wants me to solve an unsolved murder from twenty-something years ago that trained police officers couldn’t?”

He nodded. “Yep.”



headshot (1)Rachel Sharpe is the author of Cold Ambition, the first novel in the Jordan James, PI series. Although born and raised in the South, “Yankee” relatives first led Rachel to historic New England, which she has come to consider her second home and is the setting for the series.

After obtaining a Bachelor of Arts in English, Rachel began dedicating her free time to her childhood passion, writing, and in the fall of 2013, she signed her first book deal with Soul Mate Publishing. An active member of Sisters in Crime, Rachel currently resides with her husband in the Greater New Orleans area.


Buy Link:

Stuffed Waffles – For Those with Celiac or Gluten Free

It has been awhile since I posted a recipe. I finally remembered to take a picture before I ate:):)

These are quite tasty and quick to make. With this recipe I used some expensive super fine rice flour. I have found that rice flour doesn’t absorb well with whipped egg whites and you will have grainy waffles if you use regular rice flour. The taste is the same just not the texture. In this  recipe I noticed a big difference in the flour.




Slice 16 oz of strawberries and add 1/4 cup sugar, stir. Set aside.

Warm 8oz cream cheese to room temperature. Place in mixing bowl and beat until smooth. Add 1/4 cup powdered sugar (or more to taste) and mix well. Set aside.

For the waffles:

Beat 2 egg whites until stiff.

In separate bowl sift together:

1 cup super fine white rice flour (I used Authentic Foods Sweet Rice Flour, superfine)

2 teaspoons baking powder

1/4 teaspoon salt

1/2 Tablespoon sugar

1/2 teaspoon xanthan gum (They will fall apart if you omit this)

1 teaspoon baking soda


2 egg yolks

1 Tablespoon oil

1 1/2 cup milk

Gently stir in egg whites.

Cook waffles:

Spread cream cheese mixture on half of the waffle. Spoon strawberries on top of cream cheese and fold over.  Sprinkle with powdered sugar.




Jennifer Lowery

Once again I have the privilege of having Jennifer Lowery on my blog with an interview.

Hi Karen and all you fabulous readers out there *waves* Thank you so much for having me today! My romantic suspense, The Maze, released this month so I’m very excited to be here! Thank you so much for sharing it with me!!

Tell me a little about this book and what inspired you to write it?


The Maze was the second manuscript I wrote and is one of the stories of my heart. I just love Noah and Attie. Their story is so tormented, so dark. Especially Attie’s. She was a tough one to write and she gave me plenty of trouble, but I think we worked it out, lol. These two didn’t let me sleep for the few months it took me to write their story though! LOL.

 Are you a planner with an outline when you write or do you just start writing?

I’m a complete pantser (I write by the seat of my pants). Much to my OCD side’s annoyance, lol. In life, I’m completely organized, I make lists, my house is always clean, I’m on top of it. But, in writing, I’m a mess, lol. No organization, no outlines, no compass. I start with a character or scene and start writing, letting my characters drive my story. Sometimes I hit walls and have to write myself out. But, I’ve accepted my process.

Do you learn about your characters as you write their story? If so how?

Absolutely! As a pantser I don’t plan much ahead of time so even my characters are a surprise to me. I love that part. Love peeling away their layers to find out who lays beneath. I really do love my job!

What is something about your writing process that would surprise readers?

I love writing the middle. It’s when I really get to know my characters and my plot. When everything is flowing smoothly. The awful beginning has been laid, and I’m building toward the end. So many important things happen in the middle.

If you could write with any other author who would it be any why?

I would love to write with Cherry Adair because I have been a fan of hers forever and we write similar genres. It was her book, Kiss and Tell that inspired me to start writing full-time 12 years ago. And, she was the one who gave me the secret handshake in an email when I was still an aspiring writer: perseverance, she said. And I’ve never forgotten it!

Did you always dream of becoming writer or did you come to it later?

Always dreamed of being a writer. Well, when I was five, lol. That’s when I was first published. I wrote a 3 sentence poem about where freckles came from. The sun, according to me in kindergarten J My teacher had it published in our local newspaper. My mom clipped it and saved it for me. I have the article in my cedar chest to this day. I haven’t stopped writing since.

You write military romance, do you have close connections to the military?

Not directly, no. But, my respect for those that serve and have served drives my stories.

What music inspires your writing?



 I see the NYT bestseller beside your name. Can you tell us which books made the list and a how that helped your writing?

I was blessed to be part of the SEALs of Summer Superbundle with nine of the best authors I have ever worked with and that is the one that hit the NY Times and USA Today (3 times-yay!). My story in the box set is A SEAL’s Song.


 Can you give other writers a favorite tip?

Make your dreams happen. Perseverance really is the key.



In honor of my release I am giving away an e-book copy of any one of my books (go to my WEBSITE to choose) to one lucky commenter so please leave me a comment with your EMAIL so I can contact you if you win!!




The Maze/Romantic Suspense

TAG:A game of survival tests their will and their love.

A mission she can’t forget…

The first female operative for the counterterrorism unit known as ATCOM, Atalanta Devayne is haunted by a former mission gone wrong. That mission led to her imprisonment, torture, and ultimate retirement, along with her loss of faith in the man she’d trusted with her life.

Brings his vengeance…

Former Navy SEAL, Noah Kincaid, bears the responsibility of Attie’s imprisonment and blames himself for not protecting her from drug lord Carlos Santiago. This time he won’t fail her.

In a deadly game of survival.


Santiago has resurfaced and set up an elaborate plan to exact his revenge on Attie by taking her brother hostage. The only way to save him is by revisiting the darkness of her past and relying on a man she can’t trust. In a battle of life or death, Noah and Attie are put to the test. They must face challenges to overcome the past and accept their feelings for each other before the danger that tore them apart separates them forever.

Content Warning: Sexual content


Short Blurb:

Former Navy SEAL, Noah Kincaid, bears the responsibility of fellow counterterrorist operative, Atalanta Devayne’s, imprisonment, torture and retirement. Now the drug lord has resurfaced and set up an elaborate plan to exact his revenge on Attie. Noah and Attie must face challenges to overcome the past and accept their feelings for each other before the danger that tore them apart separates them forever.


Copyright ©2014, Jennifer Lowery


Trying to explain was out of the question, he knew she wasn’t in a place where she could listen, so he set the lantern on the ground and stepped back. “Come on, Devayne, take what you need from me.”

“You have nothing I need.”

“Oh, I think I do. Let’s work on your fighting skills before we meet up with Santiago.”

It worked. Attie took off her parka and hung it on a tree limb. Then she lunged. Noah simply allowed her to release her pent up emotions on him, parrying her blows, challenging her and offering what she needed. She flew at and around him with skill and agility that impressed him once again. She jabbed with her fists, kicked and danced as if she were weightless.

The ground below them grew muddy from rain and their boots. Anyone watching would no doubt think them crazy to be out in such weather—Noah would have agreed—but this was important. Attie’s state of mind took precedence over the storm.

Dodging a jab to his kidney, he put his hands together in a time-out gesture as lightning flashed overhead. Attie ignored it and trotted toward him. Deflecting the blow, he said loudly to be heard, “Enough. You’re going to catch pneumonia.”

Again, she ignored him.

Annoyed, he waited for her to turn just like so…and in one swift move spun her into his arms and trapped her arms at her sides, holding her tight against him.

Green ice met his stare and her beauty struck him again. Anger never looked so good on a woman. Raindrops clung to her lashes and slid over the smooth flesh of her cheeks. Her hair clung like a deep flame to her head and shoulders. She looked hostile and aggressive and sexy as hell with her eyes flashing, cheeks flushed and clothes plastered to her lithe body. Her chin jutted out stubbornly.

“I’ll tell you when I’m done,” she snapped, struggling against him.

“You’re done.”

Like a wildcat she fought to be released. She managed to slip an elbow free and slammed it into his ribs. The same as she had the night he rescued her from that cell. She’d landed a good blow to his jaw despite her battered state.

“Ouch,” he growled.

Somehow, she managed to wrap her leg around his. He tried to stop their descent, but the ground beneath them was slippery from where they had churned it up with their boots, and they both went down.

Noah managed to take the brunt of the fall, banging his elbow on a rock when they hit. Attie landed on top of him in a tangle of arms and legs and she was more furious than ever.

“Let me go.”

“Not until we finish this.” He clamped an arm around her waist to still her movements. She collapsed against him, her breath heaving in and out of her lungs. Her forehead dropped down on his shoulder and he tightened his arm around her waist. Slim and delicate against him, her curves fitting into his contours like puzzle pieces.

The air changed around them. Attie’s breath hitched. Like it or not, the chemistry was still there. Years of attraction, years of fighting it, broke him. His control snapped and he lifted his head and captured her mouth in his.



Jennifer Lowery Author picFor everyone who signs up for my NEWSLETTER you will receive an e-book copy of my short story, Taking Chances ($.99 value) for FREE!


Thank you for having me today, Karen!! I just want to send out a big THANK YOU to all my readers out there! Without you I wouldn’t be here. My wish is to one day meet each and every one of you so I can personally thank you for your generosity and support! 
All my best, 







Today I have Eris Field and her new novel “Lattices of Love” set to be released June 11th.

cover_Lattices_of_Love.jpg_May_2014To seek love requires courage but to let love own you requires risking everything.

Emine Wheeler, a 26 year old Turkish-American professor of psychiatric nursing, wants to be free.  She does not want to live any longer behind the lattices of old harem rules. Despite pressure from the Turkish grandmother she adores and her brother to accept marriage to a Turkish man they have approved, Emine is determined to marry for love, like her American father.  She vows there will be love in her marriage.


At a psychiatric conference in Amsterdam, she meets Marc, a reticent Dutch psychiatrist who, believing that his colleagues blame him for his wife’s suicide, restricts his life to the safety of work and family that includes a troubled four-year-old he calls his daughter. However, when Emine encounters a problem with registration, he finds himself offering to help her.


Recognizing that Marc is the man of her dreams, Emine turns her back on the harem rule to avoid contact with men outside the family and accepts his help.  Later, when Emine is faced with the choice of marrying a man she does not love or damaging her family’s honor, Marc offers a solution, a marriage of convenience.  She will have the protection of marriage and he will have a mother for his daughter.  Believing that her fierce love for Marc will be enough, Emine accepts only to discover that it is not, and when Marc falsely accuses her of betrayal, she flees.  Marc realizes belatedly that he loves Emine beyond everything in his life but will his love be enough to entice her back?


“You came a long way to participate in a one-day conference.” There was skepticism in Kerim Bey’s voice.

“I had another reason for coming.” Marc turned to Rauf. “I wanted the opportunity to tell you that I intend to ask Emine to marry me.”

For a moment, no one spoke and then Grandmother Filiz turned to Emine and asked sharply, “What did he say?”

It was Rauf who answered her. “He says that he wishes to ask Emine to marry him.”

“But we don’t know him. We don’t know what kind of man he is.” Grandmother looked around the room, bewildered. “We don’t know his family,” she wailed.

“I know his family.” Emine stood and moved closer to Marc, who was on his feet now. “I met his grandmother and his daughter when I was in Amsterdam.”

“How did you come to meet his grandmother at a medical conference?” Rauf asked, a note of censure in his tone.

 Emine stiffened. “She very kindly invited me for tea.” A white lie but it seemed to placate her grandmother if not Rauf.

“Does he know that she was engaged for almost six months and then broke that engagement?” Kerim’s mother spat out the malicious words setting her tea glass down with such force that brown drops flew over the top staining the pristine tablecloth.

The ivory skin of Emine’s cheeks was stained with embarrassment as she spoke directly to Marc. “She wants you to know that I am considered to be damaged goods on the matrimonial market.”

He smiled gently at her. “Or it could be that you were wise to end the engagement if it was not right for you.”

Grandmother Filiz spoke as though the words were being dragged out of her and she seemed to shrink with shame as she whispered the words. “She has no dowry.” She turned to Emine, then asked in Greek, “Why? Why does he want to marry you?”

Emine ignored her grandmother’s question and turned to Marc. “She wants you to know that I don’t have the chests of silver, crates of china, trunks of linens, and stacks of rugs that a Turkish bride would bring to her future husband.” She held her empty hands out to Marc. “I have nothing to bring to a marriage.” Her voice shook with injured pride as she directed a withering look at Kerim Bey. “Other than my earning capacity and possible ability to produce children.”

“Hmm, I have a house and I inherited enough silver, china, linens and rugs from my mother and aunts to last several lifetimes.” Marc glanced at each person in the room, “A dowry is for a young man to help him get started.” He paused to let his words sink in. “I am not a young man. I do not need a dowry.” He continued. “I do not need a wife’s earning capacity and I do have a child.” Ignoring the others in the room, he removed the tea glass from Emine’s hand and covered her hands with his. He spoke the English words very slowly. “I think you want to marry and have your own home, and I want to marry and have a mother for my daughter.”

A mother for his daughter. His words seared through Emine with such force that even the back of her eyes burned and she closed them to hide her pain. Was that the reason he had come? She’d never felt so mortified in her life. She fought a frantic urge to run from the room as the meaning of his words pulsed through her. He did not love her. He only wanted to solve the problem of his motherless child. How could he shame her in front of everyone? Through the pain, she heard the slight murmur of approval of her grandmother. She opened her eyes slowly to see Grandmother Filiz patting Marc’s arm. Could he have understood her grandmother’s question? Did he know that her grandmother would understand his words and approve the reason he had given?

The pressure of his hands on hers made her look at him, “Do you need time to think?”

For a moment, she saw the naked vulnerability in his eyes and felt her love for him return with a steady beat. This wonderful, proud man had risked humiliation in front of a roomful of strangers. “No, I don’t need time to think.” Her voice was husky. She had promised herself that she would not marry without love but there would be love in their marriage, her love, and it would be enough. “Yes,” she said, regally ignoring the hostility in the room. “I would be honored to be your wife.” She tilted her chin up and gave him a blazing look of love before she dropped her eyes. She was well satisfied by his quick intake of breath.

Find Eris Field:





Collette Cameron

Today I am privileged to showcase Collette’s newest release.


TheEarlsEnticement3_850 3rdThe Earl’s Enticement Cover Blurb

She won’t be tamed.

A fiery, unconventional Scot, Adaira Ferguson wears breeches, swears, and has no more desire to marry than she does to follow society’s dictates of appropriate behavior. She trusts no man with the secret she desperately protects.


He can’t forget.

Haunted by his past, Roark, the Earl of Clarendon, rigidly adheres to propriety, holding himself and those around him to the highest standards, no matter the cost. Betrayed once, he’s guarded and leery of all women.


Mistaking Roark for a known spy, Adaira imprisons him. Infuriated, he vows vengeance. Realizing her error, she’s appalled and releases him, but he’s not satisfied with his freedom. Roark is determined to transform Adaira from an ill-mannered hoyden to a lady of refinement.

He succeeds only to discover, he preferred the free-spirited Scottish lass who first captured his heart.


Adaira stepped around the mare and ever-so-gently touched the foal. Was the new addition a laddie or lassie? Skimming her hands over the newborn, she bent to take a peek. A colt. The sheen of his coat glistened in the muted light. Other than a white face and leg markings, he was the color of rich Turkish coffee.

“Ooh, you’re magnificent!” she breathed in awe.

“He is, indeed,” rumbled a harmonious baritone.

She whirled around. The Earl of Clarendon leaned across the stall door. His forearms rested on the top edge. He clasped a silver flask loosely in one hand. His shirtsleeves were rolled to his elbows, and he wore no waistcoat or jacket. The top of his shirt was unfastened too.

Just perfect. She wasn’t supposed to be anywhere near the earl, and here he was, in her sanctuary. She ought to be afraid, after his parting words, but she sensed something altogether different.

No, she wouldn’t stare at the crisp dark hair on his forearms or peeking from the collar of his open shirt. Bugger it. She curled her hands into fists against the oddest urge to run her fingers through the curly hair on his chest.

A bolt of unease speared her, though whether from his disquieting presence or her awareness of him as an attractive man, she couldn’t be certain.

Clearing her throat, she asked, “What are you doing here, my lord?”

Collette CameronAward winning, Amazon best-selling, and multi-published historical romance author, Collette Cameron, has a BS in Liberal Studies and a Master’s in Teaching.  A Pacific Northwest Native, Collette’s been married for thirty years, has three amazing adult children, and five dachshunds. Collette loves a good joke, inspirational quotes, flowers, the beach, trivia, birds, shabby chic, and Cadbury Chocolate. You’ll always find dogs, birds, quirky—sometimes naughty—humor, and a dash of inspiration in her novels. Her motto for life? You can’t have too much chocolate, too many hugs, or too many flowers. She’s thinking about adding shoes to that list.


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You can connect with Collette on Goodreads, LinkedIn, and Google+  too. Go to her website for the links, her email address, and mailing address.




Jessica Jefferson


Let’s start with a blurb:


Miss Tamsin Tisdale believes herself to be completely unsuitable for London life. After a myriad of social mishaps, and the potential ruination of her family name, she’s shipped away to her cousin’s northern estate. Only after she accepts the type of existence Society dictates she must follow will she be welcomed home.

Marcus Winston, the Duke of Grayson, has a lackluster reputation. The last in a dying line, he’s endured a protected life—rank with privilege, but encumbered by isolation. After a brief encounter with rebellion, he learns the devastating consequences of his carelessness and willingly accepts living life from inside his gilded cage.

However, a chance meeting with the brazen Miss Tisdale gives Marc the opportunity to reinvent himself into the man he’s always dreamed of being. But when his deception comes to light, and ghosts from both their pasts threaten to unravel the intimacy they’ve come to cherish, will either of them set their fears aside long enough to embracelove? Or will Miss Tisdale’s stubbornness divide them?


Marc watched the faint outline come across the dense morning fog, becoming more discernible as it approached. The tall, thin figure was riding along at a perilous speed, given the morning’s lack of visibility. He thought perhaps it was some gangly young man misguided in the fog. It wouldn’t be the first time someone accidentally stumbled upon the vast property that made up his family’s immodest estate.

Then the fog parted in an almost biblical manner, revealing his gross inaccuracy.

Were those . . . breasts?

Marc closed his eyes and thought for a moment. Typically, women didn’t ride alone at such an hour and they certainly didn’t wander unexpectedly across his property. It’d been quite a while, his last birthday to be exact, since his last intimate encounter with a woman—a gift, compliments of St. Regis—so there was always the possibility that perhaps his half-drunk, sex-starved mind had conjured up the sensual image.

He shook his head, opened his eyes, and looked back again toward the horizon.

Yes, those were most certainly breasts.

And she was most definitely not a young man. The woman’s riding habit pulled taut against her body as she raced toward him. Her hair was blowing behind her—various hues of auburn and gold, like wild flames curling about in the wind. Then a decidedly feminine voice burst through the morning’s silence, interrupting his self-doubt.

“Oh, thank goodness I found you!”

This was no mirage. She was indeed very real.

And very loud.

Marc watched, dumbfounded, as the girl—no, woman—slowed her approach. “Pardon?” he called back, certain he couldn’t possibly have heard her correctly.

“I’m so happy I’ve found you,” she repeated, nearly breathless. “Well, not you specifically, anyone really. I’ve been riding in circles for close to an hour now, and I’d just about given up all hope of finding someone when I spotted you. My cousin warned me about the altitude of these hills and how I mustn’t underestimate the density of this blasted fog. Of course, I didn’t listen and got myself thoroughly turned about. You see, I’m forever regretting not listening.”

She rode closer still and he could see her quite plainly now. She was tall and lanky, her riding habit revealing a rather trim frame. His focus quickly shifted from her slender build to her smile. It resembled nothing of the demure, timid smiles he’d become accustomed to seeing within his social circles. This smile was wide, revealing a number of straight ivory teeth, and seemed to extend to every facet of her face. Even her eyes, large and dark, appeared to be smiling.

Were they brown?

No, blue.

They were an impossibly dark shade of blue.

Then she gave her head a little shake, throwing a mass of unruly ginger curls over her shoulders, captivating him entirely.


Thank you for sharing this with us.


Jessica Jefferson PictureJessica Jefferson makes her home in northern Indiana, or as she likes to think of it—almost Chicago.  She is heavily inspired by classic sweeping, historical romance novels, but aims to take those key emotional elements and inject a fresh blend of quick dialogue and comedy.  Visit her at for more of her random romance musings. 


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Compromising Miss Tisdale and Taming Miss Tisdale available now on Amazon!