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One of the best kept secrets of the romance writer’s world is the incredibly supportive authors one finds within the club. I’ve learned so much from many awesome writers since signing my first contract and at the top of that list are Kelly Moran, Vonnie Davis, and AJ Nuest.  In a funny twist of fate, all three are releasing romances this month – an event totally worth celebrating with a little giveaway.

Check out their titles below and be sure to enter the rafflecopter giveaway to win this gorgeous pendant watch necklace.

(Us only – an alternate prize will be awarded in the case of an international winner)

REDEMPTION 6/13/17  

Nearly the last remaining member of Olivia Cattenach’s family has just died overseas and left her overcome by grief. But when a soldier shows up at her ranch with a final message from her brother, she finds new purpose. Nathan Roldan is as formidable as they come. Bulging muscles and inked to boot, he looks like every bit the bad boy he claims to be. Except, under his shuttered gaze and behind his walls lies a gentle giant. Determined to carry out her brother’s wishes, she chips away at Nate’s layers and discovers more pain than any person should ever have to endure. And a passion she never dreamed was possible.

He’s not the hero she thinks he is…

Nate’s mistake got a fellow comrade killed, and a deathbed promise to take care of the guy’s sister lands him in Wyoming with the hope of redemption. But he wasn’t expecting…her. Beautiful, witty, and sweet, Olivia is everything he doesn’t deserve. Born a nothing, he’ll die a nothing. Though guilt is a living thing, temptation is too hard to resist. Somehow, she’s unleashing his restraint and unearthing feelings he buried long ago. He wants her. More, he’s worried he needs her. She’s trying to save him, but when she learns the truth, he’ll lose the only happiness he’s ever known.

JEAN-LUC: ONCE IS NEVER ENOUGH (Paris Intrigue Book 2) 6/13/17

Her daughter’s kidnapping. A metro bombing. Going undercover. Zoey Morningstar’s trip to Paris wasn’t to include any of these things. But it does. Although Jean-Luc LeFèvre rescues her little girl from the Red Hand, the threat to her child continues. Zoey is grateful to Jean-Luc, but her need to help capture the abductors must override any desire she feels for the handsome agent with his own brand of justice…and danger.

Jean-Luc is not pleased when Zoey, a crime scene photographer with just enough training to get them killed, is assigned to work with him in the French Counterterrorism Unit. Not only does she take too many risks, she drives him to distraction.

As Zoey and Jean-Luc track the terrorists, their feelings for each other grow as fast as the danger. Jean-Luc is determined to protect Zoey and her daughter, but the sinister grasp of the Red Hand is strong and far-reaching. It will take more than love to keep them all safe.

DIRTY LITTLE SECRETS (A LIKELY STORY) 6/27/17

Revenge might be cold . . .

Xander Dade has a deep-seated regret, and the nomadic decade he’s spent doling out justice as a computer hacker hasn’t helped ease his conscience. Ever since Charlie McGovern was asked to leave the specialized revenge-for-hire business called Dirty Deeds, the curvy blonde bombshell has been stuck in his head. And now that the talented thief is being stalked by a dangerous enemy, Xander isn’t about to let her slip through his fingers—not when he’s so close to convincing her she belongs in his bed . . .

But desire is a dish best served hot

Caught in a high-stakes game of cat and mouse, Charlie won’t be surrendering her secrets any time soon. Not even when long-lost friend, Xander Dade, shows up, packing a sexy agenda all his own. Her movements are being tracked, and accepting his help may put everyone she loves in danger. Things are getting too hot to handle, and selling her secrets to the highest bidder may end up costing more than her heart . . .

And don’t miss my next release – TO WIN HER SMILE (PLAYERS #5)  7/18/17

Sometimes love and luck collide . . .

When sultry British Baroness Piper Darrow falls on desperate times, she needs a diversion—and cash. As a talented photographer, she jumps at the chance to travel to the U.S. for a Manhattan Marauders football event. But she gets more than she bargained for when buff quarterback Wyatt Hunter’s errant pass lands…in her face. And when it results in Wyatt’s comeback of a lifetime, the superstitious athlete is convinced Piper is his good luck charm . . .

With his sights on the Super Bowl, Wyatt will do anything necessary to keep Piper close. The fact that she’s a feast for the eyes is a bonus. And as they get closer, he discovers that beneath her proper English surface is a sweet, sexy seductress. Soon the notorious playboy finds himself genuinely smitten, and surprisingly open to love—until his powerful family uncovers something about Piper that threatens to shatter his trust. Now he’ll have to decide whether to team up with his fears, or his heart.

 

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Title: Love is in the Air 
(Multi-Genre Romance Box Set) 
Authors: AJ Nuest, Sarah Grimm, Kelly Moran, 
Mackenzie Crowne, and Vonnie Davis
Release Date: February 1, 2016 
Multi-Genre Romance Box Set from 5 Award-Winning Authors!

*BENEFITTING WOUNDED WARRIOR PROJECT*

Your next book boyfriends are waiting…A sexy veterinarian, a hot rock star, a broody cop, a determined warrior, and a rugged cowboy!

Jezebel’s Wish by AJ Nuest

Midnight Heat by Sarah Grimm

The Drake House by Kelly Moran

Gift of the Realm by Mackenzie Crowne

Storm’s Interlude by Vonnie Davis

“Will tug at your heartstrings.” The Romance Review on JEZEBEL’S WISH

“Kept me frantically turning the pages.” Night Owl Reviews on THE DRAKE HOUSE

“As heartbreaking as it is sensually hot.” Tome Tender on MIDNIGHT HEAT

“I did not want this book to end.” JAM Bookblog on GIFT OF THE REALM

“Prepare yourselves for a breathtaking journey.” Siren Book Review on STORM’S INTERLUDE


AJ NUEST

 

Multi-published award-winning author and editor, AJ Nuest, resides in Northwest Indiana with her loving husband, two beautiful children and a bevy of spoiled pets. She and the cat are currently vying for dictatorship. The cat is winning. 
www.AJNuest.com
SARAH GRIMM

 

The youngest of four, Sarah Grimm can’t remember a time when she wasn’t writing. In fact, her siblings believe she began writing in utero to pass the time. As a child, Sarah wrote constantly, littering the house with bulging spiral notebooks and ignoring the ribbing of her mother and sister who routinely said ‘romances?’ in a somewhat scornful tone. Sarah is a Readers Favorite Award winner, a Romance Through the Ages award winner for Best Contemporary Romance, and a Gayle Wilson Award of Excellence finalist.
KELLY MORAN
Kelly Moran is a romance author of enchanting ever-afters. No one who knows her bats an eyelash when she talks to herself. She is a Catherine Award-Winner, Readers Choice Finalist, and a Finalist in RWA’s 2014 Award of Excellence. She earned one of the 10 Best Reads by USA TODAY’s HEA. Kelly’s interests include: sappy movies, MLB, NFL, driving others insane, and sleeping when she can. She is a closet caffeine junkie and chocoholic, but don’t tell anyone. She resides in Wisconsin with her husband, three sons, and her black lab. Most of her family lives in the Carolinas, so she spends a lot of time there as well.
MACKENZIE CROWNE
Hi there. My name is Mackenzie Crowne. 
I’m a wife, mother and really young grandmother. Together with my high school sweet heart husband, a neurotic Pomeranian and a blind cat, I call Phoenix home because the southwest feeds my soul. My love of the romance genre has been a lifelong affair, both as a reader and a writer. A bout with breast cancer sharpened my resolve to see my stories shared with others. Today I’m a six-year survivor living the dream. 
Raised on the concept that a stranger is just one conversation away from being a friend, I love meeting new people. My friends call me Mac. I hope you will too.
VONNIE DAVIS
Vonnie Davis is an award-winning, international author who writes contemporary, historical and contemporary paranormal romance, often with a strong spice of suspense and dollops of humor. She likens herself to a croissant: warm, crusty, wrinkled, a tad flaky–and best served with strong coffee.

Vonnie’s heroes are always that delightful blend of alpha male with a chewy chocolate beta center. And her heroines? Her heroines are feisty females, who take life’s adversities and turn them into advantages. The settings for her stories range from the Scottish Highlands to the gulf side of Florida to the hill country of Texas to her favorite city, Paris. Yet the home-base for each plot resides within the reader’s heart, where the hope of everlasting love dwells.

Although she began her writing career with The Wild Rose Press, moving up to HarperImpulse, she currently writes for Random House LoveSwept. 

She is a PAN member of RWA and several RWA groups. Find out more about Vonnie and her books at www.vonniedavis.com

Vonnie Davis for Romance… Adventurous…Humorous…Amorous.
FLOOZIES

HOSTED BY:

I’m stoked to announce the release of

How to Seduce a Fireman

by

Vonnie Davis

Available at Amazon

The heat is on…

Book 1 in the ‘Wild Heat’ series – the hottest new fireman trilogy of the fall!

Cassie Wolford has crushed on fireman Quinn Gallagher ever since he moved to Clearwater three years ago. There’s just one problem: he’s always made it clear dating is out of the question. But once a Wolford sets their sights on someone, that person doesn’t stand a chance! Cassie decides it’s time for Quinn to get a dose of his own medicine… and sets out to show him what he’s missing!

Quinn knows only too well what Cassie’s up to but he can’t give her what she wants. He isn’t good for anyone, much less someone as sweet as his angel. Fighting her off hurts like hell, but giving her false hope of a happy ever after would be damn cruel. That’s why he has to leave Clearwater.

Unfortunately, someone from his past has different ideas and when Cassie’s life is threatened this former CIA operative is staying put, prepared to crawl through hell and back to keep her safe. And it looks like he might just have to.

Excerpt:

Einstein whined and licked her face.

A pink wrapped gift on the nightstand caught her eye. Was it for her? Or was it something Wolf had left for Becca? But why would he put it here and not in Becca’s bedroom? She reached for the oblong package and fingered the silver ribbon. A small gift tag read “To Cassie, from Quinn. Happy Birthday, Peanut.”

Her heart rate kicked into the happy-to-be-me category. He’d bought her a gift. Even if it was something cheap and goofy, he’d thought enough of her to buy it and have it wrapped. So why didn’t he bring it to her birthday party? Her eyes narrowed. Oh yeah, his mystery female visitor.

Pushing that thought aside, she slid the metallic ribbon off the box. No way could he have wrapped it so carefully. She slid her fingernail along the taped edge and folded back the iridescent pink paper. The embossed logo on the white jeweler’s box impressed her. Had Quinn really gone to Zales to buy her a gift? She snapped the lid open and gasped. From a delicate gold chain dangled a filigree heart pendant. An angel nestled within the open scrollwork edging the heart. Small brilliant diamonds covered the angel’s outstretched wings.

She blinked back tears. “Oh, Quinn, you do care. No matter what you say, you do care.” When he’d kissed her last night, he’d called her his angel. Is this how he thought of her? As an angel who’d wormed her way into his heart? She slid two fingers beneath the pendant, the warmth of the gold soaking into her skin like the sun’s rays on a bright June day. So beautiful. So fragile looking and yet solid, just like her feelings for him.

She pressed the white box to her heart and sighed. Her first jewelry gift from a man, and the man was Quinn.

Einstein sniffed what she held and then laid his chin on her shoulder, his black eyes studying her. She ran a finger between his eyes and down his muzzle. “I have an admirer. He’s just too scared to admit it yet. Poor schmuck.” She giggled with glee and the dog licked her face. “Poor chicken shit schmuck.” The canine’s tail beat a happy rhythm on the bed.

Vonnie Davis is an award-winning, international author who writes contemporary, historical and paranormal romance, often with strong elements of suspense.  She likens herself to a croissant: warm, crusty, wrinkled, a tad flaky—and best served with strong coffee.

 Hey hey, romance junkies!

Three books. Fifteen stars! I LOVED these stories! Check ’em out!!!

5 ROCKING STARS

RULES OF PROTECTION

by

ALISON BLISS

 I received an advance copy of this title in exchange for my honest review and went on to buy a copy because wow. Just WOW! In my opinion, this book deserves more than a five star. If you like a fast paced story with blood pumping suspense, steamy romance and in-your-face funny dialog that makes you pee your pants laughing, Rules of Protection is your ticket to a raucous good time.

Buy link: Amazon

****

5 KILTED STARS

A HIGHLANDER’S OBSESSION

by

VONNIE DAVIS

I loved this story. Quirky, surprising and funny.  A fresh new voice in the paranormal romance genre, Vonnie Davis delivers a sexy shifter romance with hunks in kilts that will tickle your funny bone and leave you sighing.

Buy Link: Amazon

****

5 Suspenseful Stars

  SECRETS AND SINS: MALACHIM

by

NAIMA SIMONE

Despite grinding my teeth from time to time, I couldn’t walk away from this story. Ms. Simone held me captive with a totally seductive story, intriguing characters, a mean ass villain and twist I should have been able to see coming. I didn’t see five stars coming, either, but they are totally deserved.

Buy Link: Amazon

Welcome, romance junkies!

Thanks for stopping by. If you haven’t read Vonnie Davis, you’re missing out. Storm’s Interlude was the first title I read by this talented author and she quickly went on to become one of my very favorites. So, take a peek, take a chance at the giveaway – you might just walk away $10 richer – and please feel free to share.

Have a good one.

Mac

Nurse Rachel Dennison comes to Texas determined to prepare her new patient for a second round of chemo. What she isn’t counting on is her patient’s twin brother, Storm Masterson. Despite her initial attraction, Storm has two things Rachel can’t abide: a domineering personality and a fiancée.

Half Native American, with the ability to have “vision dreams,” Storm dreams about Rachel for three nights before her arrival. Both are unprepared for the firestorm of emotions their first encounter ignites.

Ultimately, it is Rachel’s past—and abusive, maniacal ex-boyfriend—that threatens to keep them apart…and Storm’s dreams that bring them together again.

 

Excerpt:

Storm heard off-key singing when he opened the back door. He quietly toed off his boots in the mudroom before stepping into the kitchen.

An open laptop sat on the wooden kitchen table. Beside it was a mug of steaming tea. On the counter, a loaf of wheat bread rested next to a jar of peanut butter. Protruding from the opened refrigerator was a cute behind, covered by baggy yellow pajama bottoms, wiggling to the beat of the song being sung. “Shot through the heart and you’re to blame, you give love a bad name.”

The off-tune singing stopped, but that perfectly rounded bottom continued to wiggle. “Pickles… pickles. Surely there are pickles in this huge refrigerator. Maybe some of those sweet little gherkins. Oh, look, cottage cheese. You give love a bad name…” The off-tune singer extracted a container from the crowded contents of the refrigerator, absently reaching out to set it on the counter.

Sneaking up behind her in his stocking feet, he placed a hand on the edge of the open door of the refrigerator and leaned over her bent body.

She moved a pitcher of orange juice. “Okay, pickles, where are you hiding?”

“Check behind the milk.”

Rachel yelped and spun around, her hand to her heart. Her big blue eyes opened impossibly wide. “You! Wha…what are you doing here?”

He held out his hand. “Hello, Rachel. I’m Storm Masterson, Sunny’s twin brother.”

“You…you’re Sunny’s brother? Don’t you dare touch me.” She made a fist and had the audacity to shake it under his nose. He didn’t know whether to laugh or paddle that cute behind she’d been wiggling earlier. “You…you just keep your hands and your lips to yourself. You…you naked, kissing bandit.”

Purchase Storm’s Interlude and other fine Vonnie Davis titles at The Wild Rose Press.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Pull up a chair, romance junkies, because you’re going to need one. 🙂 Read on and you’ll see why, but one of my favorite authors, people really, has loaned us her newest hero for this week’s character chat. (If you haven’t read her other work, she writes rockin’ hot heroes). So, please welcome Dan “Wolf” Wolford, the hero of Santa Wore Leathers by the irrepressible Vonnie Davis!

Hiya, Wolf! Thanks for taking time out of your busy schedule to speak to a group of romance readers. Becca told me you balked when I first asked you to do the interview.

WOLF: (squirms in seat) Yes, I did. Your request sounded too much like a reporter wanting to interview me, and I have a real problem with reporters.

MAC: Isn’t Becca a reporter?

WOLF: Yes, she is and a damn good one too. But in the beginning of our relationship, I wasn’t very trusting of her. You see, my family lost our parents in a terrible fire set by an arson. Reporters hounded my younger sisters to the point Cassie, my baby sister, fell apart. I resigned my commission with the SEALS to come home and finish raising them. It took me a long time to get Cassie straightened out. She’s doing great now, but she really had me worried for a while. I don’t think she’d have sunk to such depths if the reporters hadn’t followed her everywhere, invaded every part of her life when she was numb with shock after losing Mom and Dad. So, reporters are not my favorite people.

MAC: I understand. Your dislike of Becca’s profession must have created some tension between you two.

WOLF: Tension? Oh, you have no idea the tension that woman caused me. Every day she’d go jogging with her dog. I’m telling you, the woman’s got these long, shapely legs that go clean to her waist. I’ve got drool marks on my front window from watching her jog past. And the first time I kissed her? Hell, I damn near forgot my name. Then there was the time she rode up on her crotch rocket in a pair of leather pants. I was hanging Christmas lights and nearly fell off the ladder when she leaned over and…

MAC: Uh, Wolf. I asked about her job.

WOLF: (Flashes a one-dimpled smile) Oh yeah. You meant a different kind of tension, didn’t you? Her job was something I had to work through and I thought I had at one point. Then something happened and my old attitude reared its ugly head.

MAC: Well, geez. Don’t stop there. What happened?

WOLF: I acted the ass and lost Becca for a while. Had to do a bit of groveling.

MAC: *humms low in her throat* I do love to see a good looking man grovel.

WOLF: *Slides to the edge of his seat, his muscled forearms between spread thighs* Hell, Mac, I even wrote a damn poem.

MAC: *coughs on a laugh* You didn’t!

WOLF: I did, and it worked too. *winks* I got the girl in the end. The girl and her thong-stealing dog.

MAC: *grins slyly* Becca faxed me a picture of you.

WOLF: Really? Let me guess. Me and Einstein, her German Shepherd?

MAC: *shakes head*

WOLF: Bet it’s the one of me in my SCUBA gear. She likes that one.

MAC: *leans head to the side* No. *ahem* I’d say you’re more out of your gear here. *extends photo to Wolf*

WOLF: Holy hell…I will paddle her sweet behind when I get home. She’s got a sick sense of humor, you know that?

MAC: Oh, Sweetie. You call that a sick sense of humor. The romance junkies and I call it pure eye candy… er, good taste.*winks*

BLURB:

There’s only one thing on Becca Sinclair’s Christmas list this holiday season – her very own column in the local paper. And if she can build a huge blog following, her wish just might come true.

Enter Dan “Wolf” Wolford aka the man-whore next door and the new star of Becca’s popular, post-divorce blog about men. A Navy SEAL turned commander of the Florida Marine Rescue Unit, Wolf’s the very definition of the word alpha – and with an endless rotation of women on his doorstep, this hunk on a Harley has Becca and her female followers all hot and bothered!

All Becca wants for Christmas is her newspaper column, right? But when she finds herself the target of Wolf’s irresistible attentions, her snarky comebacks become less and less convincing and, suddenly, she’s not so sure anymore…

 

EXCERPT:

Wolf strode to her townhouse, rang the doorbell and waited.

Finally, her door opened, and he was greeted with a scowl.

“What?” She tugged the lapels of her short white silky robe together.

“I…ah…” His gaze snagged on all those ample curves showcased by the slinky material. I…ah…”

“You said that already.” She fisted a hand on her hip.

Einstein cannonballed around Becca with something red clamped in his jaws. He streaked across the grass, his strong muscles propelling him as he circled both of their yards.

“Get back in here!” Becca pointed into her house.

Einstein loped across the grass and shrubbery, ignoring his owner’s command.

Maybe if he acted the hero and returned the pet to its owner, he’d gain a few brownie points. “Stay here. I’ll get him.” Wolf took off after the dog. Seeing he was being chased only made Einstein run faster. Wolf followed him twice around the yard in front of Becca’s house. The dog leapt over a flowerbed and stopped, his head lowered, shaking his prize, his hind end elevated, wiggling in excitement.

“Give me that.” Wolf stepped to the right around the flowerbed. The dog trotted to the left. In a quick move, he sprinted to the left and the dog dashed to the right. “Think you’re smart, don’t you?” He could have sworn the dog smiled. Wolf leapt across the blooms, hoping to grab the smartass canine. Once he’d grabbed the collar, they rolled, and Einstein yelped. Wolf grimaced as he, too, rolled across a low-growing cactus and into the trunk of a palm tree. “Dammit.”

The dog whined and dropped the fabric to lick and bite at the prickly thorns in his groin.

“Easy now, Einstein.” Wolf cooed as he slipped his Swiss army knife from the front pocket of his jeans.

“What’s wrong? What’s going on? What are you doing with that knife?” Becca tugged on the hem of her short robe and glanced up and down the street as if she thought to run out into the yard.

“Stay where you are. He’ll be fine. He’s got some thorns in his hide.” Wolf removed the tweezers stored in a slot of the knife and began extracting the offending needles. “We can’t have an awesome fella like you in pain now, can we?” He worked as quickly as he could. “One more, big guy, and then you’ll be fine.” The dog licked him several times. “Yeah, I like you too. Let’s keep what I’m about to do just between us, shall we?” He ran his fingers over the affected groin area, keeping his attentions on the dog’s reactions. “Looks like we got them all.”

“What in blue blazes are you doing to that dog? Are you performing some kind of ‘beasty-wildy’ on him?” Mrs. Minelli, his neighbor, punctured the air with her cane, her white eyebrows arched in question.

He fought the urge to laugh. “No, Mrs. Minelli. I was taking out thorns.”

She cocked her head to the side, her cataract-clouded eyes widened. “In his penis?”

BUY LINKS:

AMAZON ~ http://bit.ly/SantaLeathers

BARNES & NOBLE ~  http://bit.ly/1846Aau

 

Please visit me at my blog: http://www.vintagevonnie.blogspot.com

Or follow me on Facebook: Vonnie Davis.

I tweet under VonnieWrites, if you care to follow me in the twitterverse.

 

Hey Hey romance junkies. One of my favorite people is here. Whoot Whoot! Her name is Vonnie Davis, V to those of us who love not just her, but the fantastic romantic adventures she tells. She’s got a smoking deal for you today. Oh, hell, I’ll let her tell you all about it! Take it away, V…

Happy Spring, everyone. The leaves are popping out on trees here in southern Virginia. My magnolias are blooming as are my cherry trees. I love seeing the earth come alive after a long winter, don’t you?

Mac, I’m always happy to visit your blog and bring along my own touch of mania. I’m a trouble-maker. Truly. I love pitting my heroine and hero together in such a way they drive each other nuts. I love the push and pull of it. The yin and yang of newly acknowledged sexual awareness. The fear of the attraction. The denial. And the way it simply drives them up the wall.

Take two control freaks, for example. What happens when two hard-headed, opinionated and micro-managing people come together? Imagine the sparks, the clashes, the passion. That’s what happens in book two of The Red Hand Conspiracy series: RAIN IS A LOVE SONG.

Jean-Luc is a member of the French counterterrorism unit, an ex-Marine Commando (the French version of our SEALS) and a man who sees women as something to be enjoyed. This attractive American, though, pulls at him. What’s worse her aggressive nature gives him a twitch in his eye.

Gwen is an American widow who has to be in charge of everything about her life since her husband’s death in Iraq spirals her organized existence out of her control.

Her life revolves around her daughter just as ours did when our children were small. But imagine her heartbeat of horror when little Rhiannon is abducted right in front of her eyes—another freakishly out-of-control moment. Thankfully Jean-Luc was nearby to rescue Rhiannon. And while she’s grateful for his help, hours later she’s still grappling to regain control. Her safety net has been ripped to shreds.

While Rhiannon is in the care of Gwen’s father, she and Jean-Luc are on their way for take-out food when he gets a call to report to a murder scene in the sex-district of Paris. And before I share the scene with you, I want to tell you RAIN IS A LOVE SONG is currently a FREE download at Amazon. Free, ladies!!!

“I’m trusting you for now, because I have no choice. Has the crime scene been managed?”
“What?” His head swiveled in her direction. That’s right she worked for the police back in the States. Crime scene investigator or photographer or something. “Yes.”
Gwen started rummaging in her cavernous bag again. “Did the first respondents do the initial assessment?” She pulled out a camera and a roll of film. With quick, efficient movements, she opened the camera’s back to remove an exposed roll and insert a new one.
“I didn’t think anyone used film anymore.”
“I do. It’s been my experience as a crime scene photographer that sometimes an older camera and film take better images than the newer digital ones. I love my trusty old thirty-five millimeter. Dad gave it to me when I graduated from college. I majored in chemistry, but minored in photography.” Her hands expertly made several adjustments. “Just need to set the shutter speed dial to the flash synchronization speed and I’m all set.” She extracted a newer camera from her bag, too, and hung the strap around her neck. “That doesn’t mean I avoid new technology. Although, some courts won’t allow digital pictures into evidence because they can be so easily altered. What’s the rule here in France?”
“Tell me you’re not planning to take pictures of my crime scene. I won’t allow it.” He wanted her to stay in the car while he did his job. She was still rummaging in her bag, grumbling. “I’m not hearing what I want to hear, Gwen.” A motorcycle zipped in front of him, and he slammed on the brakes.
“Ah, here it is.” The woman had a habit of muttering under her breath. She was just loud enough for him to hear, yet low enough he knew she wasn’t talking directly to him. She pulled out a small black device with a wire and microphone attached and began unbuttoning the top few buttons on her blouse.
He couldn’t believe it; what all did she have stuffed into that bag? “You brought a tape recorder along on your trip?” She was biting off a piece of tape, for God’s sake, and taping the recorder above her breast. After which she clipped the microphone onto the neckline of her top.
“Rhiannon wants a recording of her new cousin crying.”
“Of course.” The whole batch of Americans were half-loopy.
“I find this works better. The recorder is voice activated so it’ll only record when I speak. It’s my way of verbally recording what I see as I photograph it. Comes in very handy in trials. It also keeps my hands free to photograph.”
He shook his head at the incredulity of all she had crammed in that shoulder bag. What else had she brought? A crime scene investigation kit? Fingerprinting kit?
She tugged a child’s notepad and pen from her bottomless shoulder bag. “Wish I had my tripod.”
“You’re not authorized to photograph my crime scene.”
“Do you have a ruler? I’ll need one to place next to any evidence I find.”
Was the woman deaf or just hell-bent on having her own way? “You are not photographing my crime scene.” He checked his side mirror before making a turn. She had his temper sparked and primed. One more remark and she’d suffer his wrath.
“Do you have any of those disposable shoe coverings so I don’t leave any non-site traces at the scene while I photograph?” (insert shoe-covers photo)
He yanked his car onto an empty stretch of sidewalk and jammed the gearshift into Park. “Did you not hear me? You’re not authorized to photograph my crime scene.”
“I won’t get in the way of your unit’s photographer.”
She was the most damnable woman. Thick-headed. Dogged. “Don’t you understand?”
Her turquoise eyes flashed. “Don’t you understand? If the same group who killed this informant also snatched Rhiannon, you can bet this mother will do whatever she can to gather evidence to find them. No one touches my child. From now on, I will be in pursuit of their deranged behinds. Believe me, the police, Interpol, counterterrorism units are nothing compared to one pissed-off Momma. Now, do you or do you not have a ruler?”
That damn tick plagued his eye again. Every time he was around this woman with her annoying ways, she affected his right eye—and his libido. “I don’t want you to get out of my car. Is that clear?”
“Yes, it’s clear.” She fiddled with a lens on her camera.
“Good.” For some reason he didn’t believe her. She was going to be trouble.
Gwen tossed her hair over her shoulder. “It’s clear you’re afraid a mere woman would see something you or your staff might miss.” She hiked her chin in that pugnacious way she had. “I thought you were smart enough to see a fresh set of eyes might help. Maybe if I were a man…”
His hand fisted in her hair, and he dragged her to him. Their faces were a mere inch apart. “I wish to hell you were a man. I’d slug you.”
She rolled her eyes and started muttering under her breath again. Something about how she wished he’d try and how great he’d look with his foot broken off and shoved up his ass.

FREE DOWNLOAD UNTIL SATURDAY. HERE’S THE LINK: http://www.amazon.com/Rain-Love-Song-Conspiracy-ebook/dp/B00BK9QV3K/ref=sr_1_7?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1365967371&sr=1-7&keywords=vonnie+davis

Hey Hey, romance junkies,

Have I got a treat for you today. The incomparable Vonnie Davis is here to share a taste of her latest Honky Tonk Hearts romance, Back Where You Belong. If you’ve never read any of her work, you are truly missing out. Her voice is fabulously rich, and funny too. The book is available right now for free download, but I’ll let her tell you about it. Take it away, V!

Thanks for having me here today, Mac. I always love visiting. I’m here to spread the word about a free novella download on Amazon this week. Back Where You Belong is my second story in the Honky Tonk Hearts series. And I have to tell you, Mac, how thrilled I am that you’ve contracted a story in this series, too.

Calvin and I went to the movies yesterday. A matinee, a tub of buttered popcorn and diet soda to neutralize the calories in the butter is an indulgence we love. Movies can turn into an expensive proposition, especially if you’ve got kids.

So can shopping for school clothes. My hero in Back Where You Belong is a single dad. He takes his thirteen-year-old daughter, Olivia, and her best friend to the mall for clothes. He asks Lacy, the lady he’s seeing, to go along.

Shopping with teenagers can wear on anyone. Let’s pop into an excerpt and see how the day has been for Tyler.
After carrying their bags to the van, they trooped to the theater. Olivia and Cassidy sat a few rows up while she and Tyler settled in seats near the back. As promised, he’d gotten her a large tub of popcorn with extra butter.

“What a dangerous combination—teenagers and shopping malls.” He exhaled a long sigh as his hand scooped some of the snack off the top of the tub. “Have you ever seen anything like those two inside a store?” He motioned with a second fistful in the general direction of the girls. “I swear I just aged ten years.” He shoved more popcorn into his mouth and chewed.

“When Olivia held up those torn, frayed jeans with that hellacious price tag, I nearly had a coronary. What’s wrong with plain old Wranglers, I ask you?” He grabbed another handful and crammed it in his mouth. His head tilted as he chewed and thought. “She’s only thirteen. I’ve got—what?—eight, nine more years of this to contend with?” His fist delved into the tub again.
“Earrings. My God, she musta bought thirty pair. Hell, she’s only got two ears. And bracelets. Her arm’s only so long.”

Lacy patted his thigh. “Calm down, Dad. She’s only young once.”

More popcorn disappeared. “Yeah, but I’ll be broke for life.”

“Frankly, I found today an enlightening experience.” She fought back giggles.

He stilled, his gaze fixed on her. “How so?”

“Big, strong bull rider is putty in the hands of his petite daughter.” She plucked a few kernels of popcorn and ate them, the salty taste a special treat. “She so has you wrapped around her little finger. I never took you for a softie, Tyler Desmond.”

“She wears on me sometimes. I love her to death, but I worry I’m not raising her right.” He grabbed another handful. “I mean, what do I know about girls? They’re so damn emotional, you know?” His jaw chomped in frustration. “Why did she need three pair of sneakers? Tell me that.”

Lacy glanced into the tub, now nearly empty, and laughed. When had he eaten last?

The lights dimmed and previews of coming attractions started. Explosions on the screen caught Tyler’s attention, and for a few minutes he seemed to calm. She watched him out of the corner of her eye. Seeing this side of him was a revelation. Did he really worry about his abilities as a parent? Olivia was bright, polite and charming in her own way. Bossy to an extent, but Lacy imagined one would need to hold her ground living with a strong personality like Tyler. In many ways, he was larger than life.

A few minutes into the movie, she leaned over and whispered, “Did you get any napkins? My fingers are greasy from the butter.”

He stared into her eyes for a few beats. “I’ll take care of it,” he whispered. Even in the darkened theater, his brown eyes twinkled. He coiled his hand around her wrist and brought her fingers to his lips. Slowly, with his eyes locked on hers, he sucked her index finger into his mouth. A warm tongue swirled around it, and desire shot straight to her core. Oh. My. God. I’m going to have a climax in this theater.

Her eyes drifted shut, and she clamped her thighs together. The things this cowboy could do to her. He took a slow, torturous journey on each of her fingers. If she got any hotter, the theater would have an explosion to rival the ones on the screen.

When he finally got through, he wrapped a hand around her neck and drew her in for a kiss. Lips fused and tongues touched. He tasted of butter and popcorn and pure sex.


While shooting pool at the Lonesome Steer Honky Tonk, rancher Tyler Desmond takes an errant dart in the neck. Ready to retaliate, he’s instead captivated by the blonde who threw it. Tyler isn’t interested in opening his heart, so why does he kiss the verbal buzz saw? Just to shut her up?

As a teenager, Lacy LaRoche had a secret crush on Tyler. When the dart brings them face-to-face, all she can do is chatter—until he kisses her. But Lacy didn’t come back to Texas to fall in love. She’s hiding another secret: her roommate surreptitiously videotaped Lacy undressing and posted it on the internet.

When Tyler’s daughter is bullied at school, Lacy must reveal the truth and face the emotional damage of cyberbullying. Over-protective of his daughter—and his heart—Tyler must learn to trust again. Can two scarred hearts find their way back to where they belong?

This book is a free download on Amazon until Saturday. The link is: http://www.amazon.com/Where-Belong-Honky-Hearts-ebook/dp/B00BK9QVKI/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1364953237&sr=1-1&keywords=back+where+you+belong

My website is www.vonniedavis.com

Hiya folks,

I’m stoked to have friend and fabulous romance author, Vonnie Davis visiting today. For those of you who don’t know her, fix that quick! You’ll be so glad you did. She never fails to entertain, even if she is a little … er … quirky. LOL 

Take it away, V!

I’M THE “Q” IN QUIRKY

I love quirky characters. Probably because I’m a tad quirky myself. In fact, I’m the Q in quirky. Round like the letter. And see that tail at the bottom? That’s my once firm and high behind that is now draggin’. Yes, chickas, the ass is in the grass.

I’m not a “cookie-cutter” person and neither are my characters. There’s just something endearing about quirky. Don’t you think?

Personally, I’m not fond of perfection in human beings. Perhaps it’s because I know I’ll never measure up. Plus, there’s something boring about a perfect person and all the energy he or she expends to retain that perfection. I’d sooner live, love and laugh.

That’s why at least one of my characters has little habits or quirks that makes the reader smile and nod her head. In Storm’s Interlude, the hero talked his problems out with his animals. And Noella the housekeeper would quickly voice her opinion and then follow with “but I say nothing.” Believe me, the lady said plenty. My heroine in Those Violet Eyes crawled in and out of the window of her car because her door wouldn’t work. She also cornered the market on “sass.” In Tumbleweed Letters, my hero spends time everyday at his dead wife’s grave, sharing his day with her. His son, Eli, loves feeling the textures of cloth. Quirky always has a place in my stories. No doubt because the dial in my mind remains stuck on “eccentric behavior.”

My heroine in A MAN FOR ANNALEE has her quirks, too. She’s short-tempered and quick to tell you she’s a graduate of Miss Feather’s School for Refined Ladies of Culture and Proper Decorum. She keeps to herself that her nickname at the school was Demerit Damsel. She has a devil tongue, you see.

Annalee has come to Cicero Creek, Wyoming to live after losing everything in the Great Fire of Chicago. Single women in these parts are scarce, so when word spreads there’s a new lady in town, the men start showing up. The problem is one man has already decided he’s the man for Annalee, and he’s Boone Hartwell the town’s sheriff.

Like all pioneers, the people of Cicero Creek enjoy any excuse to rally together to socialize. The day Annalee moves into her grandfather’s cabin, neighbors from far and wide—especially the men—come to help. There’s mention here of Boone’s brother, Two Bears. Boone was raised by Indians after the death of his parents. Enjoy the excerpt from this social gathering.

Boone’s back molars hurt. He’d ground them together every time a man came up the lane toward Annalee’s cabin. Some rode in on horseback, a few drove a team of horses or mules attached to buckboards, and two rowed down Cicero Creek in canoes. News of her arrival was like a magnet drawing them all in, and he’d had just about enough of every single man within a twenty-mile radius preening and fawning for Annalee. Every man’s arrival drove him deeper into a dark mood.
He’d been able to tamp his anger earlier when Clarence put his arm around Annalee.            And he’d struggled not to get upset when he saw his brother kissing Annalee’s hand. He remained relatively calm by reminding himself that Two Bears knew how his feelings were growing for her. Surely he’d misunderstood what he saw.
Still, not every man had favored well by coming here today. The look on Annalee’s face when Big Jim Thornton showed up with his brood would be a memory he’d chuckle over the rest of his life. He’d been stacking wood along the side of the cabin, near where Big Jim lined up his ragtag girls for an introduction to Annalee. Her eyes grew wide as Big Jim called off his daughters’ names while they stood at attention—dirty, unkempt and hostile.
“Miss Annalee,” Big Jim had said, his thumbs hooked in his suspenders, “these here’s my girls. Pay ‘tention now, ‘cause I’m only gonna say ‘em once. Faith, Frieda, Frannie, Fawn, Felicity, Feather, Fern, Flora, February and the baby, Forever. My wife named her Forever ‘cause she claimed she was through with birthin’ babies—forever.”
Annalee looked first at the line of girls, which contained two sets of twins, and then at Big Jim. “Where…where is your wife, Mr. Thornton?”
“Run off two months back with the travelin’ tinsmith. Left me with these here ten girls and a full set of tin plates and that there tin dishpan I jest give ya.”
The oldest of the girls, who was holding a dirty-faced baby, stomped over to Annalee. “We need a new ma, and you’re it. We done took a vote on it, soon as we heard you got off the stage.” She thrust the scrawling baby into Annalee’s arms. “Here, Forever needs her diapy changed. I’m through bein’ nursemaid to all these kids. I ain’t but eleven years old.” She turned and ran toward the gang of children playing tag in the woods near the creek.
Annalee watched Big Jim’s retreating back as he marched off to the barn, presumably to see what needed fixing there. More than likely he planned to check out the stock. Then she looked at the red-faced, angry, squirming child in her arms. “Ah…Mr. Thornton? You can’t leave your child with me. I’m not prepared to take care of a baby.”
Big Jim, a man rumored to demand his orders be followed, barely paused. “No time like the present to learn. Jest so you know, I done set aside next Friday afta’noon to wed ya. Make sure you’re at the church by one o’clock. I cannot abide a woman bein’ late.”
Two Bears stepped beside Boone. “Did I just hear what I thought I heard?”
Boone folded his arms across his chest and broadened his stance. Annalee puffed up and reared back like a diamond-head snake. “Yup.”
The brothers stood side-by-side, shoulder to shoulder. Two Bears crossed his arms in a mirror image of Boone and grinned. “This ought to be a treat. Big Jim’s got a good hide peeling coming, the way he treats his animals.”
“That’s what I figure.” Boone narrowed his eyes. “I wouldn’t miss this showdown for the world. The woman is indomitable. If I’m ever in a fight, I hope she’s on my side.”
Annalee stomped after Big Jim. “Mr. Thornton,” she bellowed. “Stop right there, you overgrown, big-feeling, clabber-headed fool!” Before the shocked man could register the list of insults hurled at him, the petite woman thrust the scrawling baby into his arms. “How dare you think for one minute that I, a graduate of Miss Feather’s Finishing School for Refined Ladies of Culture and Proper Decorum, would lower myself to marry an arrogant oaf such as yourself?”
Two Bears grinned. “She’s right fond of that finishing school, isn’t she?”
“Yes, she is. Get used to hearing about it, brother. She’ll hurl it at you every time she gets riled, but mercy ain’t she something when she does? And if I ever catch you kissing her hand again, you’ll be known forever as No Teeth Bear.”
Two Bears laughed. “I could feel the heat of your stare. Why else do you think I did it?”
Annalee was still railing at Big Jim, who was no doubt shocked any woman would and could speak to him in such a forceful manner. “You can’t marry one woman while you’re still married to another, or is that concept too tricky for a moose-jawed lackwit like you to understand? And while we’re talking about concepts, let me inform you that I can’t abide a dictatorial man. No way on God’s green earth would I marry one.”
Big Jim looked flummoxed, his eyes darting around as if he were searching for a place to hide. “Dic…dicta…?”
She planted her hands on slender hips. “Dictatorial. It means someone who issues commands.”
Boone elbowed Two Bears. “Isn’t she beautiful when she’s in full rant?”
Annalee advanced on Big Jim, imitating him as she did. “Now, you git off my prop’a’ty. Take Fern, Feather, Folly and Molly and get goin’ while the gettins’ good. Do I make myself clear?”
Big Jim tentatively—and foolishly—held out his hand. “Can…can I have my dishpan back?”
Yep, Boone thought, smiling as he split another log. Watching her lay into Big Jim Thornton had been the high point of the day. Well, that and seeing Big Jim standing there with a dishpan socked over his head. He snorted. Bet Big Jim’s ears were still ringing, along with his singed pride.

BUY LINKS: http://www.stillmomentspublishing.com/2013/02/a-man-for-annalee.html
Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00BHK7ZW8

Visit me online at www.vonniedavis.com or find me blogging at www.vintagevonnie.blogspot.com

2012 Wow!

What a year. We’ve all had those years, delivering banner events that shape and mold us. Sometimes those events are greedily anticipated, others, not so much.

Such is life. Blessings and heartaches intertwined to deliver a rich journey.

Some years are richer than others, at least that has been the case for me. 2012 was one of them. Reaching the five year mark in my survival of breast cancer was a big part of it, but so was publishing my first book, and my second, and my third and forth. Holy crap! You have no idea what a thrill that was. Then again, maybe you do.

Along with my greedily anticipated publications came many wonderful surprises. Not the least of which came in the form of new friendships with some truly talented authors. It still amazes me that I’ve even met such women, much less developed friendships with them.

One of those women is the incredible Vonnie Davis. If you don’t know her, you are missing out. You can’t go wrong when visiting her Vintage Vonnie blog. A talented story teller, beyond a doubt, I snatch up anything she writes and know I’ll be entertained. But beyond her wonderful stories, she’s also warm, supportive and one of the wittiest women I’ve ever met. Her dry humor has been responsible for many a belly laugh, and several mishaps involving coffee snorting from my nose. So, receiving her nomination for the Blog of Year 2012 award is an honor I can’t adequately express. Thank you, my friend. I’m truly humbled.

The details of the award are below, and while the list of those I could nominate is long, several special bloggers stand out in my mind. Like Vonnie, they all have a common pay it forward attitude.

First is A. J. Nuest. Oblivious with a capital O when I joined the author’s loop at The Wild Rose Press, I was naturally drawn to the vivacious and welcoming, AJ. Her Tattered Pages blog was one of the first I visited after entering the bizarre world of promotion, and her comfortable, hilarious style charmed even as it taught. Generous with both her knowledge of the industry and her support, her pay it forward attitude was a revelation to a new author, dazed and intimidated at being thrown into the deep end of a pool of sheer talent. Okay, so I wasn’t so intimidated that I didn’t beg her to take a look at a story I believed in. Busier and far more accomplished than I ever imagined, she never the less agreed, and I consider that first email communication with her one of the smartest of my life. Nominating AJ can’t repay her for what she has taught me, but it’s a start. AJ, you rock!

And there is Calisa Rhose. Like AJ, Calisa never fails to prop up us newbies, supporting us in our ignorance and answering our questions with grace and humor, despite probably having answered those very same newbie questions, numerous times in the past. Her Pen of the Dreamer cyber ranch, as she calls her blog, is forever thrown open to help support and share the works of her fellow authors. Visits there are always entertaining and educational. Calisa will forever hold a special place in my heart as the editor of my survivor’s guide, Where Would You Like Your Nipple? As you can imagine, the book was very personal to me. With compassion and understanding, Calisa helped to guide this emotional work, employing her incredible editing talents to make Nipple the best it could be. Thank you, Calisa. I owe you, my friend.

And last, but not least, there are the awesome hostesses of the Author Roast & Toast. I came across the AR&T blog shortly after being published and couldn’t help but be charmed by the generous, often zany antics of Hywela Lyn, Mary Ricksen, P.L. Parker and Sharon Donovan. Oh, and Oliver, the hunky butler. Promotion is a fact of life for the published author, taking up precious time most of us would rather use writing, and these four lovely ladies have consistently given of their time to help promote others in a uniquely fun way. Sadly, Sharon lost her long fought battle with poor health in April of 2012, but her legacy of encouraging other authors lives on at AR&T. I was humbled to be invited to join the hostesses last fall, and while I could never replace Sharon and wouldn’t want to try, I like to think she is pleased by my attempt to put into practice what I learned by her and my other nominees’ examples of paying it forward.

Thanks ladies. You’re the best!

So, here are the details of the award. There are a total of “6” stars to collect. Which means that you can checks out your favorite blogs—and even if they have already been given the award by someone else—you can still make your opinion count and pass it on to them again and help them (or me) reach the maximum of “6” stars.
The rules of the award are simple:
1.      Select the blogs you think deserve the 2012 Blog of the Year Award.
2.      Write a blog post and tell us about the blog(s) you have chosen—there’s no minimum or maximum number of blogs required and present them with this award.
3.      Please include a link back to this page: Blog of the Year Award. http://thethoughtpalette.co.uk/our-rewards/blog-of-the-year-award/ and include these rules in your post. (Please don’t alter the rules or the badge!)
4.      Let the blogs you have chosen know that you have given them this award and share the rules with them.
5.      You can now join our Facebook page – click the link here. ‘Blog of the Year 2012’ Award (http://www.facebook.com/groups/BlogoftheYear/) and then you can share your blog with an even wider audience.