#EggcerptExchange: A Cowboy’s Passion by Anita Philmar

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A Cowboy's Passion

Blurb:

Tess Van Pelt doesn’t have time to grieve the loss of her husband, not when the wolves are already at the door. Still, she has a lover that is willing to help save her. He introduces her to his cousin, Reece Bristol Smith.

As a lawyer, Reece can keep the debtors at bay. The problem or solution is he can’t keep his hands off Tess. With her deceased husband accused of murder and the major creditor making unreasonable demands, Reece has to secure Tess’s future in the best way he knows how.

Now, will Tess trust him and his cousin to keep her safe or will he need to teach her a few lessons in handing over control to him?

***A Cowboy’s Passion is a hot adult erotic mystery that explores the passion of having multiple partners. MFM

Excerpt:

“Tess, I’d like you to meet my cousin, Reece Bristol Smith.” John waved to the man, walking toward her from the far end of the room. He must have been gazing out the window that overlooked the front porch. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have missed the solid line of his shoulders in his dark blue suit or the aristocratic glint in his gaze, and most of all his uncanny resemblance to his cousin. The two could almost be twins if not for the slight touch of gray at Reece’s temples.

“It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Van Pelt. John has told me a great deal about you.” Reece paused by the end of the couch and waited for John to step out of the way before approaching.

John muttered something and left the room.

Tess stared, fighting the need to stand and walk directly into this stranger’s arms. Could he offer her the same type of pleasure John did? The thought had her shifting restlessly on the couch. The image of them both making love to her at once had her squeezing her hands together.

Tess drew back her shoulders and stiffened her spine. As a new widow, she had a certain decorum she needed to maintain. On the other hand, Gab had only been dead a few days. Wanting sex with a complete stranger didn’t fall on the list of acceptable activities she planned to allow herself.

Hell, she’d managed to keep away from John. She should have the strength to resist his cousin. “He told me you are a lawyer.”

“Yes, and John was kind enough to provide access to your deceased husband’s papers.” Reece sank onto the couch by her feet.

“Well, if that’s true, then you’ve undoubtedly decided you want no part of this mess after all. Gab had a diverse array of business dealings. Some of which I’m not even sure, I’m aware of.” Her gaze ran over the hard line of his jaw and settled on his lower lip. The soft pink flesh had a wet trail from the swipe of his tongue.

Need again washed through her, and she missed his reply.

In fact, she must have failed to catch more than she thought when he rose and stepped to her. As if in a dream, he suddenly stood directly above her with one hand on the back of the couch, the other on the armrest. His handsome face filled her line of sight. Then he moved even closer, and her eyelids fluttered close.

Available at:

Amazon    Barnes and Nobles     Smashwords

Other Books in the  Naked Bluff, Texas series

In Deep Water   Skinny-dipping to cool off in the Trinity River couldn't cause any problems...could it?

In Too Deep   The peace of the day is shattered when her best friend steps too far into the Trinity River.

Duty's Bride   Can Sadie have a new life or will her old one rear its ugly head?

More Than Ready   Can a determined woman win her heart's desire?

A Cowboy's Pleasure   Does this cowboy want the job he's being offered?

The Country Doctor's Bride   Run from a murder or marry a doctor, which one will she choose?

Bio for Anita PhilmarAnita Philmar likes to create stories that push the limit. A writer by day and a dreamer by night she wants her readers to see the world in a new way.

Influenced by old movies, she likes to develop places where anything can happen and where special moments come to life in a great read.

Naughty or Nice?

Read her books and decide.

Website:  http://www.anitaphilmar.com/

Email: anitaphilmar@yahoo.com

Blog: http://www.anitaphilmar.blogspot.com/

FB: www.facebook.com/anita.philmar

GR: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/1329767.Anita_Philmar

Twitter: https://twitter.com/anitaphilmar

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Anita-Philmar/e/B002BMBE8C

Little Glimpses, Big Inspiration

I have far more ideas for stories written in my notebook than I will ever have time to write. Some are favorites for me to think about as I fall asleep or as I'm driving. I've tried to bring them into being a few times but so far it's not worked. They're fun but dont have enough conflict to move a story. The characters are my playmates, like the imaginary friends we have as children. Inspiration comes from many places, anything that raises a question of why, who, what, where, or how. It could be a snippet of song or a glimpse of an image from a movie, TV program, or an interesting or beautiful photograph. I usually say that music is my biggest inspiration because most of my ideas come from songs.

But not always. Once, while on vacation, I noted four boys crossing the street and something about them caught my attention--they were all dressed in white, but not in a uniform way. The image was incorporated into a story a few months later. Another story and character came from a T-shirt on someone walking across a bridge. It became a hobby to find a t-shirt for every occasion for that character.

I try to make a note of things that catch my attention for whatever reason. I never know when they might come in handy.The inspiration for my current work in progress came from the punchline of a joke: You're special just like everyone else. I wondered what would happen if young supernatural creatures, feeling alone and different, met other types of creatures feeling the same.

It's morphed into a story totally different from how it started. The original main character had no real arc other than dealing with his parents. Eventually, I changed the main character and made him older, which allowed a more interesting story arc. I kept my notes from the first version, however. Who knows when those ideas may be needed.

#EggcerptExchange-Made Maleen: An Erotic Twist on a Fairy Tale by Jeanne St. James

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Made Maleen: An Erotic Twist on a Fairy Tale

By Jeanne St. James

Genre: Contemporary Erotic Romance

A Novella loosely based on the Grimm’s fairy tale Maid Maleen

Blurb:

 “Just let me love you.”

 When Maleen King’s father catches her naked in the hay loft with her high school sweetheart, he sends the eighteen-year-old away to receive a college education and rise above the humble beginnings of an Idaho dairy farm. Now fourteen years later, Mal comes home to run the farm after the death of her father. The stress of a disastrous marriage and being a NYC stock broker made her long to return to a simple life.

Braydon Daniels, devastated when Mal’s father sent her thousands of miles away, has thought about her every day since. Now, over a decade later, he finds himself alone, divorced, and beaten down by the trauma of his broken marriage. When Mal comes back to town for her father’s funeral, he realizes the feelings he once had for her are just as strong. There’s one little snag, though. His ex-wife is the woman Mal has hated her whole life. And they have a child together.

Despite the struggle to recover from their past relationships, the undeniable attraction between them still exists. Can they rekindle the passion they once had?

Excerpt:

Mal picked at her black pencil skirt, pulling the scratchy fabric away from her skin. She was anxious to get back to the house and change into an old, comfortable pair of jeans. She wished she still fit into the worn pairs she found in a box at the bottom of the closet in her childhood bedroom. But like Braydon, she had also matured. Which meant having curves that no longer fit into junior skinny jeans.

As she walked down the ramp from the funeral home, it surprised her to find a car other than hers still left in the parking lot. She figured she would be the last one leaving, especially after staying to make arrangements with the funeral director for her pop’s cremation.

She stumbled and caught herself by grabbing the metal rail running alongside the concrete incline.

He looked good.

Shit. Good was a gross understatement. That was like saying a sundae full of ooey, gooey hot fudge, wet walnuts, colorful sprinkles, a pile of real whipped cream, and a cherry on top tasted only good.

Her stomach growled. She wasn’t sure if it was due to the fact she found herself now hungry for a sundae, or the sight of Braydon Daniels leaning his ass against the side of a pickup truck, his arms and ankles crossed as he watched her approach.

She looked down at her blouse. Yep, her nipples had hardened into two mountain peaks. She sighed. Way to be so obvious, Mal.

Though she could kill two birds with one stone: Eat the sticky sundae right off his—what she could only imagine—firm stomach. She bet his six-pack had indentations where the melted ice cream and fudge would pool until she licked away all traces of the sweet goodness.

Mal faltered and had to take a deep breath before closing the gap between them.

“I figured that was your car.”

She wasn’t used to his deep voice yet. The voice of a man, not a teenager. He was parked only two spaces away from her bright red Audi R8 convertible. With the upgraded 5.2 L V10 and manual transmission, the pretty little sports car had set her back a cool $166,000. Five-hundred fifty horses weren’t cheap. Though a beauty and hell of a lot of fun to drive, out here in Bum-fuck, Idaho, the car was nothing but a joke.

Oh, it impressed her colleagues back home in New York, but here a manure spreader was more useful. Suddenly, she realized she mistakenly thought of New York City as “home.”

“How’d you guess?” she asked, trying not to be too apparent when her gaze skimmed every inch of him.

He laughed, shaking his head, and glanced down at the pavement for a moment. When he looked back up, he pinned her with his greenish-gold eyes.

She did her best not to squirm.

Available at Amazon for only 99¢ or FREE in KU: http://amzn.to/2klYO8o

Author Bio:

JEANNE ST. JAMES is an erotic romance author who loves an Alpha male (or two). She was only thirteen when she started writing since it gave her an escape from teenage angst! Her first paid published piece was an erotic short story in Playgirl magazine. Her first erotic romance novel, Banged Up, was published in 2009. She is happily owned by farting French bulldogs. She writes M/F, M/M, and M/M/F ménages.

She has a few new releases coming up in 2017. So keep an eye on her website at www.jeannestjames.com or sign up for her newsletter: http://www.jeannestjames.com/newslettersignup

Connect with Jeanne here:

Blog: http://jeannestjames.blogspot.com

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/JeanneStJamesAuthor/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/JeanneStJames

Amazon Author Page: https://www.amazon.com/author/jeannestjames

Review & Book Crew: https://www.facebook.com/groups/JeannesReviewCrew/

Kiss Me I'm Irish: It's a #BlogHop

Welcome to the Kiss Me I'm Irish Romance Blog Hop!

This fun and quick hop will take you on a journey to meet some fantastic authors who write some amazing stories! I'm Trevann, and I'm thrilled you've decided to stop by. While you're here, check out the rest of my site, and consider signing up for my newsletter for more contests and free goodies! http://eepurl.com/bwsuJr

PRIZES

$50 Amazon Gift Card

$10 Amazon Gift Card

In order to be eligible to win our prizes you must visit all the stops (listed below) in the hop and leave a comment as well as a valid email address so that we may contact the winner.

Courtney Hunt www.courtney-hunt.com/blog

Tarah Scott http://tarahscottromanceauthor.blogspot.com/

Kayelle Allen https://kayelleallen.com/

Charmaine Gordon http://authorCharmaineGordon.wordpress.com

Sherri Hayes http://www.sherrihayesauthor.com/blog.html

Trevann Rogers http://www.trevannrogers.com/living_after_midnight_blog/

Danita Minnis http://blog.danitaminnis.com/2017/03/dark-love-rising-mfrw-blog-hop-2/

Jennifer Theriot http://jennifertheriot.blogspot.com/

Laura Haley-McNeil http://laurahaleymcneil.com/

Dani Haviland http://danihaviland.blogspot.com/

Thanks for hopping with us... have fun... and away we go....!!!!

#EggcerptExchange: Dark Brew by Diana Rubino

DARK BREW A time travel romance

Learn from the past or forever be doomed to repeat it.

Accused of her husband’s murder, Kylah McKinley, a practicing Druid, travels back through time to her past life in 1324 Ireland and brings the true killer to justice.

Two months of hell change Kylah’s life forever. On her many past life regressions, she returns to 14^th century Ireland as Alice Kyteler, a druid moneylender falsely accused of murdering her husband. Kylah’s life mirrors Alice’s in one tragic event after another—she finds her husband sprawled on the floor, cold, blue, with no pulse. Evidence points to her, and police arrest her for his murder. Kylah and Alice shared another twist of fate—they fell in love with the man who believed in them. As Kylah prepares for her trial and fights to maintain her innocence, she must learn from her past or forever be doomed to repeat it.

An interview with Diana about Dark Brew

Where did the story come from?

The story took 12 years from start to finish. I’m a longtime member of the Richard III Society, and in the spring of 2004, I read an article in The Ricardian Register by Pamela Butler, about Alice Kyteler, who lived in Kilkenny, Ireland in 1324, and faced witchcraft charges. After her trial and acquittal, she vanished from the annals of history. I couldn't resist writing a book about her.

How did you decide to make it a paranormal?

I’m a believer in reincarnation, and I go on paranormal investigations whenever I can. I’ve gone on several past life regressions. Cape Cod has a lot of history and paranormal activity. I’ve been on many ghost walks and ghost hunts there. I wanted to connect Alice in the past with someone in the present, her reincarnation.

Was Alice Kyteler famous in 14^th century Ireland?

Not at all but she was the richest woman in Kilkenny, and for that reason the villagers hated her, especially the men. They accused her of killing her first husband, but she was acquitted. Then they accused her of killing her fourth husband, John LePoer, with witchcraft, the accusations more absurd than those of the 1692 witch hysteria in Salem, Massachusetts. Chancellor Edward de Burgh arrested Alice because her stepsons claimed she had murdered John by casting a witch’s spell with malefecia…and she used the enchanted skull of a beheaded thief as her cauldron.

She went to trial and her dear friend Michael Artson had her acquitted, but she vanished into the annals of history. According to legend, she went to England. But no one knows for sure.

Why did you make it a time travel?

Because my heroine, Kylah McKinley, is a druid and has done many past life regressions, she knows she’s the reincarnation of Alice. So she has to go back and find out what happened to Alice, because too many weird things are happening to her in this life that parallel Alice’s life.

Kylah lives on my beloved Cape Cod. She’s a druid, a ghost hunter and owns a new age store in a restored Revolutionary War-era tavern. She was also the target of a hit-and-run. Another hit-and-run crippled her husband Ted. That’s no coincidence—she’s convinced someone’s out to get them both.

She brews an ancient Druid herb mixture, goes back in time and enters Alice’s life to find out exactly what happened and who killed her husband.

These two months of hell change her life forever. Kylah’s life mirrors Alice’s in one tragic event after another—she finds her husband sprawled on the floor, cold, blue, with no pulse. Evidence points to her, and police arrest her for his murder. Kylah and Alice shared another twist of fate—they fell in love with the man who believed in them. As Kylah prepares for her trial and fights to maintain her innocence, she must learn from her past or she’s doomed to repeat it.

Have you ever spoken to Pamela Butler, who wrote the article about Alice?

Yes, we’ve corresponded. She lives in New Mexico, so we’ve never met in person. I asked Pam what inspired her to write about Alice. I’d never heard of Alice until I read her article, “Witchcraft & Heresy. She replied:

“You asked why I wrote about Alice Kyteler, who preceded Richard by a century-and-a-half. I only wrote it because others on the listserv encouraged me to write about witchcraft, a subject about which I knew very little. I ordered three books from Amazon.com on the subjects of witchcraft, heresy, Satanism, etc. for research reasons. That was my basis, plus I searched the Internet. The Malleus Malleficarum was published in 1487, just two years after Richard's death, so it's almost contemporary. I chanced across Alice in this reading and thought that it was an interesting case. Witch burning was fairly rare in Ireland, and wasn't as bad in England at that time as it had been on the Continent. I wish that the M.M. had never been published; still, the fact that it was published and accepted may reveal the mindset of those times.”

An excerpt from Dark Brew

Kylah shut Ted’s den door. She couldn’t bear to look at the spot where he gasped his last breath. His presence, an imposing force, lingered. So did his scent, a blend of tobacco, pine aftershave and manly sweat. Each reminder ripped into her heart like a knife. Especially now with the funeral looming ahead, the eulogies, the mournful organ hymns, the tolling bells . . .

These ceremonies should bring closure, but they’d only prolong the agony of her grief. She wanted to remember him alive for a while longer, wishing she could delay these morbid customs until the hurt subsided.

Throughout the house, his essence echoed his personality: the wine stain on the carpet, the heap of dirty shirts, shorts and socks piled up in the laundry room, the spattered stove, his fingerprints on the microwave. But she couldn’t bring herself to clean any of it up. Painful as these remnants were, they offered a strange comfort. He still lived here.

“I’ll find that murderer, Teddy,” she promised him over and over, wandering from room to empty room, traces of him lurking in every corner. “I’ll do everything in my power to make sure justice is served. Another past life regression isn’t enough anymore. I know what I have to do now. And I promise, it will never, ever happen again—in any future life.”

She inhaled deeply and breathed him in. “Go take a shower, Teddy.” She chuckled through her tears as the doorbell rang. She cringed, breaking out in cold sweat when she saw the black sedan at the curb.

“Not again.” No sense in hiding, so she let the detectives in.

“Mrs. McKinley, we need your permission to do a search and take some of your husband’s possessions from the house,” Nolan said.

“What for?” She met his steely stare. “I looked everywhere and found nothing.”

“Mrs. McKinley, the cupboard door was open, four jars of herbs are missing, and the autopsy showed he died of herb poisoning. Those herbs,” Nolan added for emphasis, as if it had slipped her feeble mind. “Foxglove, mandrake, hemlock—and an as-yet unidentified one,” he read from a notebook. “The M.E. determined it was a lethal dose.”

Sherlock Holmes got nothin’ on him, she thought.

“Where’s this cupboard, ma’am?” Egan spoke up.

“Right there.” She pointed, its door gaping exactly the way she’d found it that night. Nolan went over to it and peered inside.

“Ma’am, it would be better if you left the house for a half hour or so. Please leave a number where you can be reached,” Egan ordered.

Nolan glanced down the hall. “Where is your bedroom?”

What could they want in the bedroom? “It’s at the top of the stairs on the right. But we didn’t sleep together,” she offered, as if that would faze them. It didn’t.

After giving him her cell number, she got into her car and drove to the beach.

An hour later, she let herself back in and looked around. They’d taken the computer, her case of CDs, her thumb drive, her remaining herb jars, Ted’s notebooks, and left her alone with one horrible fact: This was now a homicide case and she was the prime suspect.

Purchase Dark Brew

Kindle

Amazon Paperback

B&N Nook

The Wild Rose Press--Paperback & Ebook

Contact Diana

Website

Blog

Facebook

Twitter

Goodreads

#RomanticIdea:

Cook an authentic Italian meal, cheese ravioli with marinara sauce, garlic bread, a salad with Italian olive oil, a fine Italian red wine, and a sweet gelato for dessert. Then put on some Sinatra CDs and dance the night away!

My favorite Sinatra album is Come Dance With Me

We always had Sinatra playingin my house when I was growing up. Nearly everyone from Hoboken or anywherenear Hoboken has a Sinatra story; being from Jersey City, I have a Sinatra story: my great grandmother and his mother Dolly were very good friends. Unfortunately I never asked Great Grandma about what she and Dolly talked about but I’ll bet a lot of juicy gossip went around!

#ExcerptExchange: The Last Resort by Ember Leigh

Blurb:Rose Delaney is a baby bounty hunter, rescuing children from fugitive ex-spouses. All she wants is to return a recovered child to its mother and get back to her regimented solitary life. But when a snow storm leaves her and baby Emmy stranded, Rose has no choice but to lean on the ruggedly handsome rescuer, who thinks the baby is hers. Holed up in their mountain resort-under-construction and unable to contact Emmy’s mother, Rose's priority is hitting the road—even if Garrett’s erotic touch entices her to ride out the storm. Construction boss Garrett Galo loves his job, but he never imagined a perk like being snowbound during a whiteout with the sassy brunette he just rear-ended. He’s learned to stay away from women who want a family, especially when they come with a kid in tow. When passionate nighttime encounters flare between them, Garrett begins to question what he’d risk to keep Rose. This isn’t the time or the place for romance—but will five days on a mountain make these loners reconsider giving in to love?

EXCERPT: Something inside her told her that kissing this man on the first day of knowing him was wrong. She should wait. At least find out a little bit more about him. For God’s sake. When she surfaced, he stood a more respectful distance away, eyes less hazy. Standing in the shallower end, he loomed out of the water like a warrior rising from the watery depths of his kingdom. He was such a man. For reasons she couldn’t understand, his masculinity penetrated her harder than most men she came across, but it didn’t make her bristle like the others. Most guys brought out her masculine side even more—like she had to prove herself, be one of them. That’s how she preferred it, at least. But Garrett didn’t make her eager to prove her dominance. She liked being near him. Already she could spend a long time with him in a room, not talking—something of her litmus test for companions, one most people couldn’t pass. This tempted her even more, clawed at her with aching fingers. Rose didn’t come across too many guys who reminded her she was still a girl. Much less a person she could just be around them. “So, small talk.” Garrett floated toward the side of the pool. “Do we have to?” “I guess not. Should I cut to the interesting questions?” She grinned, liking where this could go. “Yeah, why not?” “Where is Emmy’s father?” The words were a punch in the gut, the sexy energy from moments ago withering and drifting away. Not the route I had in mind. The same gears from dinner began turning, the familiar whoosh of the filing cabinet opening back up to log whatever lie she came up with next. “Um…she…doesn’t have one.” He narrowed his eyes. “How do you mean? Like…absent? Or…immaculate conception?” Rose laughed, taking the time to figure out the second phase of her cover. The light of the room glinted off his slick chest in a way that made it impossible to keep her story straight. “In vitro.” Distant surprise registered on his face. “Seriously?” She shrugged, picking a slow-paced path between the two edges of the pool. In vitro meant fewer details to keep straight, no need for an ex-baby daddy drama story or even an invented relationship to keep up with. And she would rather give up her daily squats than need to complicate this web of lies needlessly.

PURCHASE LINKS: The Wild Rose Press: http://wrildcatalog.thewildrosepress.com/all-erotic/4944-the-last-resort.html Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01MRD30DX/ Barnes & Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-last-resort-ember-leigh/1125619766

Releases March 17th, 2017!

AUTHOR BIO: Ember Leigh has been writing erotic romance novels since she was far too young. A native of northern Ohio, she currently resides near Lake Erie with her Argentinean husband, where they run an Argentinian-American food truck. In addition to romance novels, Ember also writes travel memoirs and occasionally updates a couple of blogs. In her free time, she practices Ashtanga yoga, hops around the world, and eats lots of vegetables. Website: www.emberfleighromance.com Facebook: www.facebook.com/EmberLeighAuthor Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/8045833.Ember_Leigh Twitter: @EmberLeighAuth

#EggcerptExchange: The Rest of Forever by Carrie Pulkinen

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The Rest of Forever

By Carrie Pulkinen

Genre: Paranormal Romance - Angels

Blurb:

Suspended between two worlds—belonging to neither—April must let go of her dreams and embrace her duties in the afterlife to win the man she loves.

April Carter is a high school history teacher who dreams of finding the perfect man to whisk her away from her small-town life. She wants it all—the husband, the house, the kids, the car. But her dreams of living the perfect life are shattered during a school shooting. ​Now she must learn to accept her fate if she's ever going to find the life she loves. ​

Damian ​Perkins ​is ​April's Guardian Angel, though no one would guess that based on his attitude. A tragic event in his past has left him bitter and resentful, and he won’t let anyone get close enough to care about him​. He's tried to make April hate him, but she sees through his abrasive exterior and awakens a part of his soul he thought had burned out long ago. Damian​ must​ let go of his past​ and​ accept his responsibilities​ ​or​ ​​he'll​ spend the rest of his existence alone and miserable​.

Excerpt:

Damian lay on the bed behind her with his arm across her body. God, I wish I could feel her. The memory of the way she fit in his arms tightened his chest, and he yearned to feel her warmth again. To feel her soft curves pressed against his body. She could’ve used some real affection. But as much as he wanted to give it to her, it wasn’t his place. He’d have to settle for comforting her from The In-Between.

She took a few deep breaths and slowly drifted to sleep. The tension in her body relaxed, and her pulse slowed to a steady, rhythmic beat. Rest was exactly what she needed to chase away the fear and guilt that must’ve been coiling inside her. To be betrayed by someone who was supposed to love her. He couldn’t imagine what she must’ve been feeling.

Well, yes he could...

He breathed in her intoxicating scent and closed his eyes. He was getting in too deep, and he needed to get away.

But as the last of the tension left her body, she exhaled and whispered, “Damian.”

Hearing his name dance from her lips made his heart lodge in his throat. Was she dreaming about him?

“I’m here, April. You’re safe.”

A soft moan vibrated from her chest, and she nestled her head into the pillow.

She couldn’t possibly be dreaming about him, could she? He’d tried so hard to make her hate him. What dream could possibly be twirling through her mind? She was sound asleep, and he knew it was safe to leave her alone.

But he stayed.

As much as he hated to admit it, he liked holding her, whether he could feel her body pressed to his or not. There was nowhere in the universe he’d rather be. And he desperately wanted to hear her whisper his name again.

Get it together, man. It’s not gonna happen.

The sun set, and soft moonlight filtered through the window, giving her skin an angelic glow. Even with her tear stained cheeks and disheveled hair, she was magnificent. The soft rise and fall of her chest, her gentle breath, her fragile posture. He could’ve held her forever.

But he needed to leave. To get away from her before his thoughts went any farther down the path he’d been avoiding all this time.

He pulled his arm from around her and prepared to Jump. She moaned and reached to the place where his arm had rested moments before.

“Please don’t leave me, Damian.”

He froze, his body paralyzed in anticipation, and swallowed down the lump in his throat. Did she sense him? Did she know he was there with her? No, it wasn’t possible. Charges felt comfort from their Guardians, but they never knew why.

“Damian, please.”

Liquid warmth flowed from his core, out to his limbs. His heart raced at the sleepy sound of her voice. He imagined it was how she’d sound in the morning, after a long night of lovemaking.

But he could not think about her that way. There was no way in hell he’d ever fall for a Charge. Not if he could help it.

Available at Amazon for $2.99 or FREE in KU

 Author Bio:

Carrie Pulkinen has always been fascinated with the paranormal. Of course, when you grow up next door to a cemetery, the dead (and the undead) are hard to ignore. Pair that with her passion for writing, and you’ve got the perfect recipe for an exciting storyteller.

Carrie spent the first part of her professional life as a high school journalism and yearbook teacher. She loves red wine and chocolate, and in her free time, she likes to read, take pictures, and spend time with her family.

Connect with Carrie here:

Web Page | Amazon Author Page | Facebook | Twitter

#EggcerptExchange: Spirits of the Heart by Claire Gem

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Spirits of the Heart by Claire Gem

A Haunted Voices Novel

 Blurb:

An addiction counselor and a security guard struggle to free a little girl and her father, two lost spirits trapped inside an abandoned mental asylum. Addiction counselor Laura Horton returns from college to move in with an old friend and start her career. But her homecoming is jarring. Her friend moves out, leaving Laura alone with the gorgeous but intimidating ex-boyfriend—in a house that snugs up to an ancient graveyard.

Officer Miller Stanford is a man with a shattered past. His alcoholic dad destroyed their family, a weakness Miller is terrified will consume him too. The last thing he needs is a sexy, blonde addiction counselor watching his every move. When he begins to see specters in the dark, he starts questioning his own stability.

But Laura sees her too—a pathetic child-spirit searching for her father. When Laura starts digging into old asylum records, the eerie events escalate . . . Can Miller and Laura uncover the secrets of Talcott Hall without jeopardizing their love—and lives—in the process?

Excerpt:

“Hey. Little girl. Let me help you,” Miller tried again, and the child finally lowered her hands. She was younger than he’d first thought—ten, maybe. Tears streaked her reddened cheeks, glistening in the beam of his headlights. Her pale, golden hair was baby fine and wispy, but tousled and disheveled. As though it hadn’t seen a brush in good long time.

She met his gaze with eyes like the man’s, clear and blue and strangely luminescent. The sadness Miller saw behind them made his chest ache.

“Where did your friend go, sweetheart? The man who came out with you. Where did he go?”

She stared at him with lips quivering before her face crumpled again. “I don’t know. I don’t know where Daddy is. I’ve been looking and looking for him. Every time I think I’ve found him, he goes away.”

Miller swallowed. Yeah, that’s one way to describe the mysterious vanishing act.

He drew in a breath and tried again. “What’s your name, sweetie? Was that your daddy with you?”

Head bobbing, the tears flowed freely now, and she wouldn’t take her eyes off Miller’s face. He felt a lump growing in his own throat, as though she was somehow transferring her pain to him. His hands, clasped in front of him, began to shake.

When she spoke again, her voice took on an echoed quality, as though she were receding into an empty culvert. “I’m Greta. And I’m looking for my daddy. He used to live here. But I keep coming back to find him, and nobody knows where he is.” She dropped her chin to her chest and ground her knuckles against her eyes.

“Greta,” he repeated, a stab of pity piercing his gut. So freaking pathetic. A forlorn little girl . . .his own memories rose up like foul-smelling steam. Swallowing hard, he pressed on. “Greta, honey, what’s your last name?”

When she looked up, Miller gasped. Behind her, against the fence, a bright red McDonald’s French fry box clung to the base of the chain link. Directly behind her, yet he could see it clearly. That’s when he realized he could see . . .right . . .through her.

Claire Gem Bio:

Claire is a multi-published, award winning author of emotional romance—sexy contemporary, supernatural suspense, and women’s fiction. She writes about strong, resilient women who won’t give up their quest for a happy-ever-after—and the men lucky enough to earn their love. No helpless, hapless heroines here. These spunky ladies redefine romance, on their terms.

Her supernatural suspense, Hearts Unloched, won the 2016 New York Book Festival. Her rock star contemporary, The Phoenix Syndrome, won the women’s fiction division in FCRWA’s The Beacon Contest.

A New York native, Claire has lived in five of the United States and held a variety of jobs, from waitress to bridal designer to research technician—but loves being an author best. She and her happily-ever-after hero, her husband of 38 years, now live in central Massachusetts.

You can find out more about Claire and her work here:

Website:                      http://www.clairegem.com

Amazon Author Page: http://www.emotionalcontemporaryromance.com

Facebook:                    http://www.facebook.com/clairegem.author

Twitter:                       http://www.twitter.com/gemwriter

Buy Links:

Createspace:            https://www.createspace.com/6899776

Amazon:                   http://amzn.to/2jt6k1p

Book Trailer:             http://bit.ly/1QreCAY

I Love Words. Except These.

I probably need to cover myself up front by saying that I know lots of people who use words that make me grind my teeth or roll my eyes. I still respect them in the morning.

Words I find distasteful seem to fall into three categories. There are the profane words that polite society seems to frown upon. There are bodily function words. And there are words used incorrectly or simply made up. After I made my list I asked my writing group what their ick-factor words were. Although we had some dislikes in common, our differences surprised me.

My own absolutely-will-not-say words fall into the bodily function category. I didn't realize this until a fellow writer pointed it out. Being a biology research scientist, these words don't bother her at all while they're even hard for me to make myself write. For the sake of the blog, I'll do it: Fart, snot, and puke. Once, I stopped reading a book by one of my favorite authors when farting became a large part of the story.

Two words that I hear way more often than I should are orientate and conversate. I will say these words only as punchlines to jokes. A colleague offered the word confusement as her pet peeve.

Misused words make the list, too. A huge irritant is the use of less when fewer is the appropriate word. One writer-friend hates sentences that begin with so. I cringe when I am asked if I am done. Unless you're talking about meatloaf, the question is "Are you finished?" Another friend hates the phrase all y'all.

I'm from Virginia. I understand that idiom completely. And I loved it when Prince used it in a song. Y'all didn't know he was southern, did you?

Through my friends I learned there are words that some people dislike for no apparent reason, like moist, ooze, cannibalism or space cadet. The collection of words that drew the biggest groans? The feels, adulting, squee, bae. These made up words seem cute, but in reality cause massive eye rolls from  readers/listeners.

If you are interested in seeing how new words spread across the country, check out these links. Then let me know what words make you cringe.

Here's how new words spread across America.

Here's just the video.

By Any Other Name

I have a habit of giving multiple names to people, pets, and books. Granted, I start out with perfectly acceptable names, but they tend to morph into whatever strikes my fancy at any given time or circumstance.

For example, we adopted a cute little dog named Muffin. We were told she was 19 months old and full grown at 25 pounds. We didn't think she looked like a Muffin so we changed her name to Molly. When she started to get a bit chubby she became Molly Muffintop, which morphed into Milenko and then The Grest Milenko (said in the sing song voice of Insane Clown Posse). Later, when she topped 50 pounds and started jerking on her lead and popping one of my ribs,  she became Tank.

​That is the same route my titles usually take. It starts with what we think the story will be. House of the Rising Son started out life as "Beautiful Strange" which captured the essence of our main character. Then one day my partner and I were cooking. She'd opened a can of pineapple and I cautioned her to be careful because the can seemed to be sticky on the rim.  Boom! We both knew that had to be the books true title-- "Sticky on the Rim". The two main characters were trying to break free from their families' expectations so they could live the lives they wanted, but each time they were close to breaking free something kept them from taking the last step. Seemed  logical to me. The publisher didn't agree, and the title became House of the Rising Son.

The series carries the same name as my blog--Living After Midnight. When my partner and I first started writing stories together, we both held full time jobs and had other responsibilities. Writing took place at the end of the day after everything else was finished. Late night phone calls helped us flesh out what we were writing. It became our truth that we were existing during the rest of the day but truly living after midnight.

My two current works in progress have already had two names each. I wonder what turns life will take, and what additional names we'll uncover.

Music Fuels Me #MFRWAuthor

Music effects us on a physical level as well as emotional. Our breath quickens, heart rate increases in response to some types of music. Music can calm those same functions. It's logical that listening to music which enhances emotional responses in writers helps them express those feelings in their writing. ​We may not ever be lucky enough to find a song that inspires us to write a blockbuster movie, as Bon Jovi's Slippery When Wet did for Young Guns II, but we can hope that it spices up what we do write. There is so much music available that it would be impossible to NOT find a song that elicits the feeling we're trying to put on the page.

​Music helps me get "into the zone" when I write. It can almost be a trancelike state when the writing is going well. And sometimes when I would rather do anything than write, a good song can call me to where I need to be. But it has to be the right music.

​My go to music is Liquid Silk by Marina Raye, Wave by Beck, or Elephant Box by Ingrid Chavez. They help me relax. I never listen to the radio so am hopelessly out of touch with the top popular songs.

I find music on TV programs or in movies.

​My fight scene, or intense scenes, work well with many of the entrance themes used by WWE wrestlers. Live in Fear, Voices, The Truth, Black and Blue, Catch Your Breath, and This is War. Any doubt you might have about the quality of this music can be easily erased when the music hits and the crowd erupts.

Drift from Pacific Rim and Young and Beautiful from Great Gatsby are two of the songs on my playlist. I would love to have a song out of Twilight that isn't for sale as far as I can tell, and I have searched for the theme to Blood Ties without any success. Way Down We Go from Lucifer joined music from Empire and Sons of Anarchy. i recently bought Silent Lucidity again as well as Misguided Angel by the Cowboy Junkies. Both were bought because they were on one show or another and I was reminded how much I liked them.

The common denominator for all of these songs is that they move me, cause me to feel a strong emotion. In turn, this emotion sparks and fuels my writing. What songs fuel you?

check out more great blogs!

My Hobbies Aren't What They Used to Be #MFRWAuthor

Writing is a time-intensive endeavor. From dreaming up stories to staying connected to those who enjoy my work, hours and hours are consumed bringing my characters to life.

When I’m not writing, much of my time is taken up by my dogs and with cleaning my house. These are not hobbies, of course. The word “hobby” suggests something fun. Let’s be honest: There is nothing fun about doing household tasks. Chores are dull and repetitive. You clean the kitchen one day and the next day you have to do it all over again.

On the other hand, I love my dogs very much, and they fill my heart with joy—most of the time. Maybe you would need to see the three-ring-circus that is the care and feeding of my needy pooches to understand why it's so all-consuming and not consistently enjoyable.

In the past, when writing was something I did for sheer enjoyment, I had lots of hobbies. I did needlework and crocheted. I gardened. I made presents for family and friends. I even did a little scrapbooking. Sadly, all of those activities require a time commitment that I no longer have. I still buy the Stampington magazines and crafting products, and PLAN the projects I will do "next Christmas", but mostly I just look at the pictures and wish I had more time.

Now when I have time to sit down and do nothing for brief periods, television seems to be my activity of choice. There are a few special shows I record. I watch when I have free time, such as Supernatural (#TeamDeanforever), Lucifer (#sexymf), Magicians (hate the main characters but #lovemesomeEliott), Grimm (#nothingwithoutMonroe), and new to the roster, Riverdale (#hookedandnotsurewhy). These programs lend themselves to binge watching when I my brain is fried from the daily grind. Other shows, like Netflix’s The Fall are so intense that I can only watch one episode at a time. I then have to spend any remaining free moments finding something (anything) lighthearted to view.

My most enduring pastime is researching whatever grabs my imagination. I’ll hear or see something that takes me down a rabbit hole by way of the Internet, library, or bookstore. This month I've researched H.H.Holmes, one of the first documented American serial killers, Admiral Byrd (the explorer) and Operation High Jump, Byrd’s invasion of Antarctica, now speculated to be UFO war. I am currently nursing a fledgling interest in genealogy. It began when my mother had her DNA tested and found, much to her surprise, that despite being raised as one ethnicity, she, in fact, has 0% of that DNA. Which means I, too, am not who I believed myself to be.

It's disquieting to learn you are not who or what you think you are. Since being one’s authentic self is the theme of most of my stories, this discovery offers interesting ideas for further writing. It seems I may have a new hobby I must play with for a while. What are your current hobbies? Check out these other fabulous blogs!