Today I’m featuring one of my own books, called Book of Love. The Romance Studio is featuring this book in their book-a-day-giveaway (http://theromancestudio.info/book-a-day-giveaway/)
I also have a mailing list for my newsletter. If you’d like to be added to my mailing list, drop me a line at firstname.lastname@example.org. You can also check it out at my website (http://conniebretes.weebly.com)
A librarian, a mechanic, and a psychotic ex. What could go wrong?
When her marriage came to a devastating end, Janice Meyers moved to Montana to try to escape her past and get a fresh start. She's sworn off men, but she didn't anticipate meeting Chris.
After the death of his wife, Chris Jamisen focused all his time and energy on running his auto repair shop and raising his children. He's not looking for love, and when he first meets Janice, the town's new librarian, he never imagines they might embark on a relationship. Sure, he'll admit he finds the smart, sexy blonde attractive, but the frustrating woman expects miracles from him. Her vehicle is practically beyond repair, but she insists he has to keep it running.
As Chris gets to know Janice, he begins to develop feelings for her, but he's reluctant to pursue a relationship. He's Native American, and he worries about the complications of a biracial relationship. He's experienced prejudice first hand, so he knows how difficult it can be. When Janice's ex-husband shows up seeking revenge, things could reach a horrible end. Will Chris save Janice in time? And will he and Janice be able to set aside their painful pasts and give their relationship a chance?
Janice walked into Colstrip Auto Care and marched up to Chris, who was standing behind the counter. “You know, I’m starting to have issues with you and my car.”
“Well, I have issues with you and your car too. I told you that I couldn’t guarantee it would keep running, and that I’d try to get it running long enough for you to get another vehicle. What seems to be the problem now?”
“I don’t understand why you can’t keep it running for me,” she retorted.
“I figured cars were really foreign for you. Why do you think cars end up in junkyards at the end of their useful life?” Chris shot back.
“Because mechanics can’t fix them?” She swallowed hard, trying not to reveal her anger.
“No, because owners like you don’t take care of them.” He glared at her.
“I didn’t have this many problems with the car until I brought it to you!” she snapped. His tone both aroused and infuriated her.
“No, it was pretty much dead when you first came to me.” He let out a sigh. “All right, tell me what happened this time.”
“I hit a pothole, and then I couldn’t steer it.”
“Where is it?”
“Down at Main Street and Boulder.”
Chris really didn’t want to take time out of his busy schedule to drive down there to take a look. He had six cars in the shop, and everyone was working overtime to get them done.
“I’ll have Tony bring it in.”
“Another tow charge? Can’t you go and look for yourself and, you know, fix the damn thing?”
He could, but after the way she’d just spoken to him, he decided he wouldn’t. “No, I’m quite busy right now,” he said as his temper flared. He was trying to help her, but it seemed that she didn’t believe that.
She walked to the door, then turned around and asked him, “What happened to the horn?”
He looked at her blankly with his eyebrows raised. “What about your horn?” Even as the words left his mouth, he knew it was a mistake to ask.
“It was working fine when I got to Colstrip, but now it doesn’t work!”
Aaron came to see what the commotion was about.
“Probably the damn thing rusted off and is laying alongside the road,” Chris muttered under his breath.
“What did you say?” She looked back at him with a flash of anger in her eyes.
“Nothing.” He really didn’t know what the hell happened to the horn.
She regarded him coolly. “You probably took it off and never put it back on.”
“Now why would I do something like that?” he asked her irritably. He was starting to really get angry with her, but he held himself in check.
“I don’t know, maybe you have a horn fetish or something.”
Aaron left the room and went into the office.
“I don’t know what happened to your horn, but if you want me to put one on I will.”
“No, that’s okay. I don’t need it.” She turned and walked out the door.
He looked after her, exasperated. First she yells at me about her horn, then when I said I’d fix it, she says no. Women. He shook his head as he walked back to his office for a second to cool off. He walked in on his son who was in the middle of fits of laughter. Chris wasn’t amused.
“Did you do something to her horn, Dad?”
“I don’t know what the hell happened to her damn horn,” he replied flatly.
A few hours later, he had the car towed in and put it up on the hoist and immediately saw the problem. He called her on the phone. “You lost a ball joint on the car. That’s why you couldn’t steer it.”
“Well, how did that happened?”
He let out a sigh. “It looks like it rusted off and you hit a pothole and that was all it needed. It’s a good thing it happened while you were in town.”
“Is it fixable?” she asked.
“Yes, it fixable.”
“How much will it cost?”
“A ball joint will run you about five hundred dollars,” he answered.
“Boy, that’s expensive.”
“Actually, it’s quite cheap. I’m charging you less than I charge other customers and I’m doing the labor free for you so that saves you money too.”
“I see. Thank you, Chris,” Janice said quietly.
They ended the call and as Chris hung up the phone, Aaron chuckled. “Dad, you’ll have a brand new car for her before it’s over with.”
“You can shut up now,” Chris replied..
Alex O’Hara wants to take her investigation agency in a new direction—background checks for potential spouses. She hopes this new case will do the trick when a high-powered executive asks for info on her new boyfriend. Is the man she met on a cruise her Mr. Right or is he too good to be true? On the same day, Alex gets another case—finding a deadbeat dad. And both women want to double her rates so she’ll give them highest priority. She can’t believe her luck. Her finances are on the upswing. If only Nick Palzetti was around to share her good news. He disappeared on Christmas Eve, and she hasn’t heard from him in almost three months. But glitchy phones and no internet bring everything to a screeching halt.
Dottie pursed her lips and gave her husband the evil eye. “We will talk later.” Then she turned that eye on me. “What are you doing here? I thought you were too busy to go anywhere today.”
My face burned. On our run yesterday, I told her I had to write a report. And again this morning when she begged me to go antiquing with her.
“I was busy. I mean I am. I needed a break. My eyes were coming out of my head from typing, my internet is on the fritz, and I need to ask you about someone.”
As I followed her into the kitchen, I stepped on something then hopped around. That’s what I got for leaving my shoes at the front door.
“James Andrew Matthews the Third, what did I tell you about leaving Legos on the floor? Auntie Alex could break her neck stepping on them.”
Trey, who with his father had been trying to slink away, scurried back. “Sorry, Mom. And she’s not Auntie Lex. She’s Princess Lex.”
“Princess? Ri-ight.” She rolled her eyes. “Jim, Emmy’s awake. Go get her.”
The woman had supersonic hearing.
Since we were all still in the hall, he edged past her, heading for the stairs with the dog following.
“And wake up Billy, though I don’t know how he could sleep through all this noise. And don’t forget to check Emmy’s diaper and make sure Billy goes potty before he comes down here.”
Jim saluted. “Will do.”
“Now.” Dottie whirled on me. “Who do you want to talk about?” Her gaze cut to Trey standing silently next to her taking in everything. “Wait for me in the living room, Alex. Trey, out to the family room with those Legos.”
I always felt like I was in the middle of a tornado at Dottie’s house. Talk about multi-tasking. Her mind—and mouth—went ninety miles an hour as she directed her household. A military chief had nothing on her.
Seeing her in action confirmed I could never be a good mother. I didn’t have the patience.
While waiting for her to return from the kitchen, I relaxed in the dark green wingback chair. With the new year, Dottie had declared the living room was her sanctuary. The kids and the dog weren’t allowed in. Sometimes, I wondered if Jim was.
Once we were settled with cups of hot tea—chai, my favorite—she asked again who I wanted to discuss.
“Stephanie Voorhees came to see me.”
“That girl. Her mother and mine are friends, so she thinks we should be, too. But all she does is talk about her ex. I got so tired of her complaining about him not sending child support I told her to talk to you to get her off my back.”
I took a sip of my now cooled tea. “Gee, thanks. A heads-up would have helped.”
“Sorry. I meant to.” She flicked her forehead. “Mommy brain.”
That was her excuse for forgetting everything from milk at the grocery store to mani-pedi appointments she set up for us.
“I tried to put her off.” I set my cup on a coaster on the lamp table. “She shouldn’t spend her money on an investigator when her kids need boots and winter clothes.”
Dottie choked on her tea. “Stephanie Voorhees has plenty of money. Why do you think they lived in Bloomfield Hills? Her ex didn’t make that kind of money. Daddy bought the house. She’s living with her parents here in Far Haven. And they have more money than God.”
That made me feel a little better.
“Did you say something’s wrong with your internet? What did RJ say?”
RJ, my tech guru, took care of all my electronics—computer, phones, internet.
“He isn’t answering his phone.”
Diane Burton combines her love of mystery, adventure, science fiction and romance into writing romantic fiction. Besides the science fiction romance Switched and Outer Rim series, she is the author of One Red Shoe, a romantic suspense, and the Alex O’Hara PI mysteries. Diane and her husband live in Michigan. They have two children and three grandchildren.
For more info and excerpts from her books, visit Diane’s website: http://www.dianeburton.com
Connect with Diane Burton online
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Book Blurb : Hong Kong Treasure by D. Dominik Wickles
Deshi Han, a martial arts actor and director, thinks a serious relationship would hamper his career. On a charity trip to the Philippines he agrees to take a young American woman back to Hong Kong to rest and regain her memory.
Once back in Hong Kong, Deshi reluctantly allows the young woman, whom he names Annie, to accompany him on the movie sets and on his trips across China. Despite his attempts to remain aloof with Annie, a romance develops between them.
Meanwhile, Annie is troubled by nightmares which allude to a danger lurking from her past and someone on Deshi’s crew is trying to sabotage their budding romance. As Deshi is forced repeatedly to disrupt his work schedule to protect Annie, it serves to confirm his belief that careers and relationships don’t mix.
But when it looks like Deshi will lose Annie, and he risks everything to save her, will it be too late?
Leyte Province in the Philippines. Her running steps echoed from the walls. Would he catch her? It meant white slavery if he did. Slamming open the kitchen door, she burst out of the hotel despite the typhoon ravaging the eastern coast. The destructive winds and rains were buffered in the alleyway behind the hotel, but she still had to fight for each step away from the man she knew was just behind her.
Without warning, massive walls of water rushed into the alley from both ends. The sixteen-foot wave scooped her up and battered her against the buildings. When the storm surge receded, she lay bruised and unconscious beneath a mass of water-logged debris.
“I’m told there are eleven buildings, besides this church, serving as shelters,” Father Donovan said. “I haven’t left here since the typhoon hit four days ago. Is the damage extensive?”
“Yes. Very. Many people with no homes, no food,” Deshi Han replied.
Father Donovan put his hand on Deshi’s shoulder. “You brought much-needed food and supplies. Your movies are loved but your charity work is well-known here in the Philippines. I thank you. You are truly doing God’s work, my son.”
Deshi watched as a volunteer passed out the blankets he had brought, which would help to cushion the pews they were using for beds. He shook his head. “I wish I do more.”
“Perhaps there is something …” Father Donovan began.
“What, Father?” He followed the priest to a courtyard. A young woman sat beside a storm-crushed rose bed. Deshi guessed her to be American, in her early twenties.
“Who she, Father?”
“No one knows, not even her.” Father Donovan tilted his head to the side and sighed. “She has no memory of anything before the typhoon. One of the doctors informed me that she just needs rest to regain her memory.”
Deshi watched the girl slowly gather the broken branches from around the few unharmed plants. A child about five years old ran up and tapped her on the shoulder. The young woman’s solemn face broke into a smile as the child led her away toward another section of the church.
Father Donovan turned to Deshi. “But she won’t get that rest here. She has nightmares and cries for the orphaned and injured children. I’ve prayed for someone to claim her and take her away from here.”
“We delivered the supplies to the kitchen.” Jun Chew, Deshi’s assistant, spoke in Cantonese as she approached them.
Deshi turned away from the doorway, nodded at Jun then called to his business manager, “Where the next shelter, Paul?”
Paul Wu shook his head then responded in English. “We have distributed all the supplies we brought, Deshi. That is all we can do today.”
“Besides,” Jun continued in Cantonese, “we have to get back or you will be late for the senior citizen center opening.”
The supplies had gone so fast. They had only been to six of the eleven shelters and there were so many people still in need. “Maybe one more thing I can do today,” Deshi said with a sigh. “Father?”
The priest’s right hand clutched the large cross at his neck and he smiled. “Yes, my son?”
“I will take her.”
Amzn.to/1ACgwor or if that doesn’t work - http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00U733CBY
D. Dominik Wickles is the pseudonym for Romance author, Diane T. Wickles. Diane has always been overly curious and loves to try new things. Some of her interests have included studying martial arts, getting her degree in Criminal Justice, ice skating, traveling and of course, writing stories. Her career path has taken her from bank teller to probation officer to computer instructor to library clerk to author.
She has explored many genres including horror, humor and mystery publishing several short pieces on various online magazines. Diane’s books always have a happy ending but the road to that point is rife with mystery and danger. She is a member of Pennwriters and is active in two local writing groups.
At her home in northwestern Pennsylvania, she talks to her cat, reads 2-3 books at a time, constantly searches for new vegan recipes and creates her characters. In her spare time, she loves camping and building dollhouses.
Contact her at: ddominikwicklesATgmailDotcom
Social Media Links:
Can Christmas Eve get any more fun? On her way to her family's home, Carol Prescott’s car slides into a ditch in a deserted area with no cell phone signal. The only available shelter is already occupied…by a vampire. To Michael Carpenter, Carol is the bait of a trap.
In an effort to hold onto his soul, Michael has resisted the urge to drink human blood for almost a century. Now he hovers between human and vampire. If he doesn’t drink from a human before the night ends, he’ll die. He’s desperately thirsty, but Michael has seen the soulless monsters vampires are and he prefers death. Carol is pure temptation to him, the Christmas present from hell…or is it from heaven?
By the time she got to the door, Carol was soaked, shivering with cold and desperate for the warmth the light promised. She found no bell, but the door featured a heavy, iron knocker shaped like the head of an old man. Marley’s ghost? Wasn’t it on Christmas Eve that Scrooge had seen the face of his old partner in the knocker on his door?
Deciding she was getting punchy with exhaustion and cold, she raised the heavy iron bar of the knocker and banged it several times. Nothing happened, so she repeated the action. Finally, as she prepared for a third assault, the door creaked open. A man stood there, backlit by a lamp in the hall, leaving him almost entirely in shadow.
Her teeth chattered so hard it took an effort to get anything out. “Please, I’m stranded up the—“
“Did Antoine send you?” The aggressive tone as much as the words shocked her into taking a step backward.
“No, my car slid into a ditch.”
He ignored the response. “Tell him it won’t work.” The door closed in her face.
Carol stared at it for a moment, then lifted the knocker bar and began beating it against the base. She had to keep at it for several minutes before the door opened again.
“I need help. I’m freezing out here and my car’s in a ditch—“
“I can’t help you.” The man started to push the door closed again.
Carol stepped forward and stuck her foot in the opening to prevent it. “You have to. Please! I’m going to freeze to death if you don’t help me. Honest to God.” He flinched and she pressed the advantage. “At least let me come in and make a phone call. I assure you I’m harmless. I’m just freezing.”
“Phone lines are down,” he said.
“Hell. And my cell phone’s not getting a signal. Please, can I at least come in and get warm? I’m getting totally desperate. In fact, I’ll just keep banging on your door until you let me in or I collapse.”
He muttered something under his breath, then said to her, “It’s dangerous to come in. You take your life in your hands.”
“It’s dangerous out here too. I can’t imagine what could be so risky inside, but it’s got to be better than freezing to death out here.”
“Don’t be too sure.”
He didn’t stop her when she pushed past him to get inside.
“On your own head be it.” The door closed behind her with a resounding thud.
Blessed warmth settled like a cloak around her, though icy water dripped off her hair onto her face and ran down under her coat. She didn’t even want to think what she must look like. Her embarrassment got worse when he stepped back far enough to stand in the light pouring in from the next room. It left shadows across his face, but still she could see the outlines of features well enough to tell she faced a strikingly handsome man, no more than a few years older than her own twenty-six years. A frown tightened his sensual mouth. Cheeks and jaw were set in tense, hard lines.
She smiled at him and held out a hand. “I’m Carol Prescott. Thank you for letting me in.”
He shook his head. No answering smile touched his stern features, nor did he take her hand or reach toward her. “You’re a fool.” He said it softly, sounding more sad than angry.
Karen McCullough is the author of more than a dozen published novels in the mystery, romantic suspense, and fantasy genres and has won numerous awards, including an Eppie Award for fantasy. She’s also been a four-time Eppie finalist, and a finalist in the Prism, Dream Realm, Rising Star, Lories, Scarlett Letter, and Vixen Awards contests. Her short fiction has appeared in several anthologies and numerous small press publications in the fantasy, science fiction, and romance genres. She has three children, three grandchildren and lives in Greensboro, NC, with her husband of many years.
Nineteen-year-old Elizabeth ‘Beta’ Camden is a survivor.
When the E’mani—those pale alien freaks—destroy Earth with a plague of madness and scoop up the remains, Beta is one of the ‘lucky’ ones. For years, she endures their tortures, experiments and games. Then one day, she manages to escape their ship with her life, and no memory of her time with them.
Stranded on their world, Beta wanders the mountains, looking for a way home. She stumbles onto the Fost—the E’mani’s ancient enemy. Their war with the E’mani is old and rooted in magic that the Fost once had and the E’mani crave. Magic Beta soon discovers she’s developing along with strange tattoos and disturbing glimpses of her past. The Fost take her in and train her in their ways. As she spends more time with them, she falls in love with their culture and with Marin—he of the hot hands and slit eyes.
But the E’mani took her for a reason and they want her back—dead or alive. If Beta doesn’t remember that reason soon, they’re all going to die.
Oy. No more weekday frat parties for me, no matter how noble the cause, especially when I have a test the next day. What was I thinking? And last minute cramming with a headache was not a good idea either. Forget it. My eyes drifted to the clock.
And now I was late. Damn it. With a sigh, I threw down my pencil and scrambled up, my head throbbing. I traded my Eeyore jammies for skinny jeans and a fitted white t-shirt. Shoes, where were my shoes? Gah. I ducked and rooted around in the deep, dark
spaces under my bed. Hmm, the green dress I borrowed from Sarah.
Mental note: I need to return that. English book, various dust bunnies of uncertain lineage…there.
Sketchers on, I grabbed my backpack, turned up my iPod, and ran out the door. No time to primp.
Good thing the campus I lived on was small. There was a big central courtyard—the quad—filled with towering oak trees and wide-open spaces surrounded by squat school buildings and classrooms. If I hurried, I’d make it…
I raced into the quad out of breath and slowed, turning in a complete circle.
No one around. Unease skittered through me on soft paws. The courtyard was always busy. I pulled my headphones out of my ears. Was there some sort of event I didn’t know about going on? The unnatural silence pressed in on me for a second as the
echoes of my steps faded.
Then screams—men’s and women’s—poured from Main Street. I broke into a run and shot between the buildings toward the sound.
Cars littered the intersection. Some guy rear-ended someone else, causing a chain reaction down the road. A horn blared nearby and a faint breeze blew the smell of gasoline, smoke, and copper my way. Clusters of people stood among the wreckage.
Web addresses: www.csmyersmusings.com
Buy links: Amazon - http://tinyurl.com/must-remember
Barnes and Nobles - http://tinyurl.com/BN-must-remember
Kobo - https://store.kobobooks.com/en-us/ebook/must-remember
All Romance/ARE café - http://preview.tinyurl.com/AREmustremember
Ibooks – It is there! My links is messed up.
Champagne books - http://preview.tinyurl.com/champagneMR
It should be everywhere in ebook format
Colleen plays many roles. Not only is she a veteran, a mother, and a practicing physician, but she is a writer of science fiction and contemporary romances. Colleen’s dreams include surviving her son’s teenage years, exploring every continent on this planet, except Antartica, cause that’s way too cold, and winning the Nobel peace prize. Dream BIG! Currently she is getting ready to publish her first novel, MUST REMEMBER in November of this year (cover reveal soon.) Until then look for her at Three Rivers Romance Writers, at Facebook Colleen Myers, and at @ColleenSMyers.
“Where do Christmas lights come from?”
Those tiny bulbs of color that burn on a Christmas tree,
Or outside a house to shine in the night.
Does anyone really know where they originate?
What if someone told you
They weren’t intended for Christmas at all,
But really for a miracle?
That they were for love, a desperate idea, to light a boy’s way home?
In that case, you must have some questions. What boy? What love?
Have a seat. Allow me to tell you a story.
“Because your father requires…a dowry, of sorts. A guarantee you’ll be well taken care of.”
Emmy’s hand turned sweaty. “Oh, Louis. What does that mean?”
I swallowed the sour taste at the back of my mouth, nerves trembling in my fingers. “Our engagement lasts until December twenty-fifth. If by that time I’ve not returned—”
“Returned?” Emmy’s gaze burned me. “Louis, where are you going? Won’t my father give you a job?”
I didn’t move and barely opened my mouth to let the words escape. “He’s got me a job.”
I loosened my shoulders and shrugged. “Marks Brothers pays their floor workers very well.”
“I’d stack inventory outside, in the clean air, and I’d work with a few fellows who’d watch out for me…”
“…I hear factories in London are much safer than here.”
“London! Louis, Louis, what are you talking about?” Emmy grabbed my face.
I squinted at two sparkling brown orbs. Was she crying?
“No.” Emmy covered her mouth with a hand. “No, you aren’t going to London. How could you? No one loves you there. No one knows you there…”
Your father seems to think it is my home country.
“Emmy. Emmy Emmy Emmy.” I held her close, stroking her hair. “I don’t plan to work there.”
She sat back. “What?”
“I’ve heard Mr. Godfrey talk about them. A London factory is the last place I should work. Your father means well, but I can’t do that. They wouldn’t take a blind boy.”
“Wh-where will you go, then? How on earth will you make money?”
“I have family in Paris. Mother says they have wine vineyards. I’ll work for them.”
“That…” Emmy’s fingers traced the veins on the back of my hand. “That’s much safer.” She was silent for the longest time. “You’ll be safe? And come home quickly?”
I pulled her hands away and stood, playing with the ring on her finger. “I will. I love you.”
“Emmy. I don’t have a choice. You want to marry me, don’t you?”
“Of course I do. But, Louis…”
“How long will you be gone?” How long? How long to board a ship, to find a place I’d only heard about, to earn and save an impossible amount of money? How long, indeed.
I set my expression. “I’ll be home by Christmas.”
Her sexy weekend fling.
Ex-lawyer turned pregnancy model Danielle Hampton has one simple rule; never date an attorney, even if he’s so deliciously hot she’s nicknamed him His Hotness Esquire. When her father asks her to strap on her silicone bump and pretend to be Casey Lowe’s pregnant fiancée in order to pull her family’s law firm out of trouble, her first answer is a resounding no! But she owes Casey for wrecking his pool.
Civil Rights Attorney Casey Lowe lives by a code of practice: never date his boss’s daughter, but he’ll do just about anything to make partner at the top law firm—even if it means violating his personal code. He hasn’t bargained on the fierce desire that burns hotter than the Mojave Desert and combusts every time he gets his boss’s daughter alone. She may drive him to distraction and melt in his arms, but will this party girl hang around long enough for him to convince her that all the best parties… are for two?
Party For Two
Copyright (c) Monique DeVere 2015
Crystal Swan Publications
All Rights Reserved
“Answer the question, Lowe. Did you or did you not say—”
It should have wiped the smile off his face but if anything it brightened his grin. “Yes, I said it, but—”
“Just the facts, Lowe.”
He chuckled. “Why the hell did you ever give up law?” His mouth landed on hers and she hadn’t even seen it coming.
Dani refused to let her eyes drift shut. Refused to let the sweet sensation of Casey’s lips on hers seduce her. She should pull back. Push him away. She got as far as planting her palms on his chest—his hard chest with the solid muscles that flexed beneath her fingers. Then, as if they operated independently of her brain, her hands bunched in his shirt front, tugged him closer. Her lids became too heavy and fluttered closed. The tip of his tongue caressed the seam of her lips. They softened, parted of their own accord. He accepted the invitation, slid his tongue in slow bewitching strokes inside her mouth. A shudder skittered through her, coaxing a sigh from her.
She was going to push him away… in a minute… any minute now… just one more second…
He made a half growl kind of sound deep in his throat then broke the kiss. “How’s that for a fact?”
Dani blinked. She couldn’t think. Every muscle in her body had jellified. She’d never been kissed stupid before.
Monique DeVere is a full-time author of Sweet 'n' Spicy Romantic Comedy and Contemporary Romance. She also writes Christian Supernatural Suspense movie scripts. She was born on the beautiful island of Barbados, where she grew up on a large plantation with enough wide-open space to let the imagination run free. She moved to the UK as a teen and shortly after met and fell instantly, and irrevocably, in love with her very own strong-silent-type hero. When Monique isn’t writing or spending quality time with her family, she likes to armchair travel to distant and exciting parts of the world and considers herself to have the best job on earth.
You can visit her at moniquedevere.com where she invites you to join her exclusive Sweet ‘n’ Spicy Readers Club packed full of goodies for her members. Monique loves to hear from her readers, do contact her at email@example.com.
Purchase Link: http://buff.ly/1OHUHRf
The Santa Barbara Channel holds a closely guarded secret…
She had more than just her mission…
Sy’s rotation on land as a dolphin shifter couldn’t have come at a better time. With her best friend missing and no answers forthcoming, it was time to take matters into her own hands. And with the resources at the Save Blue Water organization, finding her friend would be a whole lot easier. Except …something sinister is going on inside SBW, something deadly, and Sy finds herself at the center of danger.
The last thing he needed was bullets and bombs…
Noah Nelson spent every minute trying to forget the war while fighting his PTSD, but jumping in front of a bullet was second nature. It had nothing to do with the fact the target was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. Or that she was naked. But suddenly he’s caught up in her world, protecting her from unforeseen threats, and falling in love … but Sy’s got a secret that may rip them apart. Forever.
CJ Matthew is the author of paranormal romance suspense series Dolphin Shore Shifters. Her debut novel, Blood Tide, features a pod of dolphins posing as humans that work through their oceanic conservation corporation Save Blue Water, based in Santa Barbara, California, to protect the oceans at any cost.
CJ grew up in an Air Force family traveling all around the US and the world, gathering ideas and material for future books.She spent her high school and university years living in California, which inspired her love of marine life and the Pacific Ocean.
A member of Georgia Romance Writers (GRW) Romance Writers of America, CJ lives and writes near a lake in the woods northeast of Atlanta. When she isn't writing or reading romances, CJ likes to travel and to spend time with her two grown children, their spouses, a brilliant grandson and a feisty cat named Max.
Schedule permitting, CJ loves to travel, to discover new favorite places as well as new friends in both the US and around the world.
Max flatly refuses to travel.
Amazon author page: http://www.amazon.com/CJ-Matthew/e/B013PUB3NO/
Goodreads author page: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/14216343.C_J_Matthew
Amazon (Kindle): http://www.amazon.com/Blood-Tide-Dolphin-Shore-Shifters-ebook/dp/B013PB1NB0/
Amazon (print): http://www.amazon.com/Blood-Tide-Dolphin-Shore-Shifters/dp/0996697217
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On the road to solving his mother’s murder, sixteen-year-old Thomas Patrick Henry discovers a secret his father has kept from him for years. Tom thought Dad’s secret put him in danger, Mom’s secret is far worse. Magic. Witches. Ancient Book of Spells. Magical Amulet. Ghosts. Demons. Tom never thought these things existed until he is face to face with them. There is nothing else to do but destroy the demons before someone else Tom love dies. He already lost his mom and a close friend because this secret was kept from him. No one else will die. No one else will be possessed. Tom faces his demons. A mother’s love gives Tom the strength to slay his demons.
HUNTED (FBI Heat Book 1) by Marissa Garner
Published by Grand Central/Forever Yours
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Hot agents on explosive cases in the FBI Heat series: For San Diego’s elite FBI agents, risking their lives is standard procedure when it comes to capturing the city’s most dangerous criminals—but falling in love is the greatest risk of all.
Catching bad guys in San Diego’s underworld isn’t just FBI Special Agent Ben Alfren’s job, it’s his life. He doesn’t have time for a serious relationship, doesn’t want one either. So when he meets his sexy new neighbor, Amber Jollett, he has nothing more in mind than unwinding with a glass of wine, a romantic walk on the beach…and maybe a hot fling.
But Amber is more than he bargained for. Hunted by an obsessed ex-boyfriend, the fiercely independent nurse chooses fight over flight for the chance at a future with her hot, blue-eyed neighbor. When she gets caught up in Ben’s plans to rescue five kidnapped women, their lives get entangled and their attraction flares into passion. But they’ll learn that in this dangerous game of cat and mouse, real love can save—or doom—them . . .
The man in the gray hoodie was watching her. Amber Jollett couldn’t see his face, but he was the right height and build. Even from the opposite street corner, the intensity of his stare bored into her. She shivered despite the sunny morning.
Her focus never wavered as she slid behind two people. The man’s head turned with her movement.
The traffic light changed, and the crowd surged forward. Amber’s hand dug into her purse until it gripped reassuring metal. Weaving between bodies, she moved to the outside edge to put as much distance as possible between her and the man before the other pedestrians passed on the street. With each step, her heart beat faster.
Halfway across, the man reached up, pulled back the hood…and smiled. Straight black hair. Almond-shaped eyes. Asian features.
Amber’s knees went weak with relief.
Not him. Not this time.
A car horn blared. She jumped and spun around to find a taxi idling a few feet away, its driver gesturing impatiently for her to get out of the way. Waving an apology, she scurried across the street. She found a spot out of the pedestrian flow next to the corner of a building. She needed a moment to quiet her nerves.
She braced her hands on the knees of her pastel pink nurse’s scrubs, inhaled deep breaths, and released them slowly. Fear began to fade as calm returned.
Damn you, Jeremy Nelson. I want my life back.
Amber grimaced and closed her eyes. It was starting all over again. Two years had passed since she’d broken up with her obsessed boyfriend, but he continued to stalk her. Restraining orders and calls to law enforcement had proved useless. Now she alone was responsible for her safety. She’d lived in Coronado, across the bay from San Diego, for only two months. But two or three months was the amount of time it normally took for Jeremy to find her. From now on, she would have to be on constant alert. The worst part was imagining him wearing every hoodie, hiding in every shadow, or following in every vehicle. Usually, she didn’t wait for an actual sighting—that would be too late. No, she couldn’t hesitate. Once her instincts told her he was closing in, she had to move on. She cringed. How much longer will I be hunted?
Marissa Garner is a wife, writer, chocoholic, and animal lover, not necessarily in that order. As a little girl, she cut pictures of people out of her mother’s magazines and turned them into characters in her simple stories. Now she writes edgy romantic thrillers, steamy contemporary romance, and sexy paranormal romantic suspense. Her stories will titillate your mind as well as your libido. She lives in sunny Southern California with her husband, but enjoys traveling from Athens to Anchorage to Acapulco and many locations in between.
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