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Thursday, April 29, 2010

Blogmania


WELCOME To BLOGMANIA !
My Blog is 61 of 123

You’ve arrived at exactly the right time to explore lots of new blogs, all of which, ARE GIVING AWAY A VERY SPECIAL BLOGMANIA GIVEAWAY (For One Day Only – April 30th) .
We’ve done all the work for you. No hunting or surfing. Each blog will have a number and each new blog link will have a number. These numbers will allow you to keep track of which blogs you’ve visited and how many are left to visit. Why not take a moment to make a list of blog numbers 1-123 and check off the blogs as you go.
I know you’ll want to visit as many blogs today as you can. So, if you see something that interests you on any of our participating blogs, why not bookmark that site. Later, when you have more time, you can discover all its fabulous treasures.

CLICK! CLICK! CLICK!MY GIVEAWAY and RULES: It’s simple. All you have to do is leave a comment here at the blog. At the end of the day I’ll print the comments, put them in a hat, and draw my winners. The grand prize winner will win the beautiful jewelry in the picture. My second, third, and fourth winners will each receive a copy of either The Best Selling Toy Of The Season, Purple Heart, or The Welcome Inn. Sorry, but the jewelry can only be shipped within the US. If you’re out of the country and your name comes out as the grand prize winner I’ll send you two books from my backlist. Your choice. I’ll announce my winner on Saturday. Good luck and thank you for participating. And do come and visit me again. Right now I’m having a series of guest authors who are posting fabulous excerpts for you to read.

If you get lost go to Blog 1 for directions.


Blog- 1) – HOST OF BLOGMANIA) Between The Pages - http://betweenthelinesandmore.blogspot.com/

(Blog -2) – CO-HOST OF BLOGMANIA) The Black Sheep Dances - http://www.theblacksheepdances.blogspot.com

(Blog-43) - CO-HOST OF BLOGMANIA) Books, Books Everywhere - http://bookywooks.blogspot.com/

(Blog-86) The Hidden Haven - http://thisandthat-cait045.blogspot.com/

(Blog-104) Reviews from the NutHouse - http://reviewsfromthenuthouse.blogspot.com

(Blog-67) Arms of a Sister - http://www.armsofasister.com

(Blog-33) There's A Book - http://www.theresabook.com

(Blog-5) Elaine Hopper - http://www.elaineannhopper.blogspot.com

(Blog-112) SueFitz Stitching - http://suefitz-fitzsstithing.blogspot.com/

(Blog-35) Just Jewelry by Jessica - http://www.justjewelrybyjessica.com

(Blog-123) Moomette’s Magnificents - http://moomettesmagnificents.com/blog/

Wednesday, April 28, 2010


Hello! It's Margaret Tanner day here at the blog. I know you're going to love her work. Enjoy her excerpt and be sure to come back on April 30. I'm participating in Blogmania and have some great prizes to share. Now, here's Margaret.

WILD OATS – The Wild Rose Press

Phillip Ashfield uncrossed his cramped legs and stood up to reach into the overhead luggage compartment. What an imposition, having to manhandle his own luggage.

“Good God, man, when you’re in the colonies you have to look after yourself.” He remembered the advice he’d received from Tony, one of his friends from Eton. How true. Godforsaken bloody backwater.

If his father hadn’t been so ill, he would have refused point blank to come out to Australia. Had his mother not been so distraught about the old man, he would have ignored her entreaties to visit relatives at the back of beyond.

God, it was hot. The temptation to loosen his collar became almost unendurable. He wore the latest summer fashion for 1914, a three-piece suit with a shaped coat that had a vent down the back. His linen, as always, was the finest money could buy. Neither one helped keep him cool in these temperatures.

The door leading from the carriage slid open and, even with the swaying of the train, he started moving down the narrow passageway, glancing out the window as he did so. They would reach Dixon’s Siding in ten minutes. The conductor had assured him of this a few moments ago, but he was taking no chances of being carried on. If he missed his stop, God alone knew where he might end up.

“Damnation.” The train shuddered and slammed him against a window. As he straightened up, he watched without much interest as two horsemen broke out of the forest. No, it was called bush in Australia, he reminded himself. One must get the colloquialisms right. More advice from Tony. Young fools were racing the train.

“What the hell!” He almost went sprawling over a small battered suitcase dumped in the middle of the corridor.

Steadying himself with one hand against the wall, he gazed into a pair of the clearest blue eyes he had ever seen.

“I’m sorry, but you should have watched where you were going,” the girl said with a humorous lilt to her voice.

She looked about seventeen or so. Her hair, the colour of ripe corn, rippled about her shoulders in a tangled mass of wayward curls.

“Now look here, Miss...”

But she wasn’t listening. “Come on, Tommy! Come on,” she urged, her head and shoulders poked through the open window. She waved and jigged about so much Phillip feared she might fall out of the train altogether.

The two horsemen raced neck and neck for a moment or two until one started drawing away.

“Come on, Tommy, faster.”

Suddenly the riders veered to the right and disappeared behind some trees, and the girl drew back inside the carriage.

Ruffled hair, rosy lips parted in a sunny smile, and deep forget-me-not blue eyes, she surveyed him with an almost childlike candour.

“Sorry about the case. I was making for the door when I saw the boys. Are you getting off at the siding too? Well of course you are.” She answered her own question with a breathy little laugh.

His experienced male eye assessed the
simple home-sewn dress and serviceable black lace-up boots. A young farm girl returning from holidays?

“I’ve been staying with my Aunt in Benalla. It’s my first holiday in ages.”

“I hope you enjoyed the experience.” It sounded stilted and patronising, but he couldn’t help it. For the first time in his life he felt uneasy in the company of a woman.

“I’ll be getting off soon.” A small, suntanned hand reached for the battered case.

“Let me carry it for you, Miss, Miss...”

“Allison.”

“Miss Allison.”

“No.” Her laughter bubbled up once more, “Waverley, Allison Waverley.”

“Pleased to meet you, Miss Waverley. I’m Phillip Ashfield.”

“I’m pleased to meet you too, Phillip.”

The casual familiarity surprised him, yet strangely it pleased him, also.
The sudden almost nervous movement of her hand, alert teasing eyes dancing with laughter, gave him a feeling of wellbeing.

“Are you being met?” she asked.

“I hope so.” He reached out for the case and his fingers came in contact with the warm flesh of her hand. A blush stained her cheeks when he hesitated, a fraction too long, before pulling away.

“You won’t be able to carry both our cases, Phillip, the corridor is too narrow. I’m used to lugging things about. Jim says I’m as strong as an ox.”

“Jim?” he queried, wondering why he bothered to ask.

“My brother.”

“Oh, was he one of the boys racing the train?”

“Yes.”

“And Tommy? The one you cheered for.” He felt a sudden inexplicable surge of anger. “He your brother also?”

“No, Tommy is my…my best friend.” She gave a sweet, tender smile that somehow turned mere prettiness into an exquisite beauty.

Phillip felt a stab of annoyance and, for the first time in years, jealousy. How preposterous. He shook his head to clear it of such nonsense. Phillip Ashfield, only son of Lord and Lady Ashfield, who could trace their lineage back five hundred years, suffering the pangs of jealousy over a young colonial farm girl he had only just met.

http://www.thewildrosepress.com/wild-oats-p-3893.html

Monday, April 26, 2010

Debra St. John and Wild Wedding Weekend


Today's excerpt comes from Debra St. John, and it's a good one. Enjoy!

Blurb:
All Abby Walker ever wanted was to live a normal life in her small suburban-Chicago house. After traveling around the world in her youth, staying put in one spot is a dream come true. But when she winds up on a game show as a favor to a friend, her life takes an adventurous turn she isn’t at all prepared for.

Noah Grant has put his small-town Indiana roots behind him. He travels all over the world, enjoying the freedom and adventure. He has no intention of settling down anytime soon, if ever. But then he finds himself married to Abby in a bizarre quirk of fate, and he realizes his life will never be the same.

Their passion flares as hot as the sultry Caribbean air. But is passion enough to turn their Wild Wedding Weekend into a lifetime of love?


Excerpt
“I really am sorry.” Abby's mind whirled. The thoughts tangled. The Noah she’d spent the last couple of days with wasn’t anything like the man she’d imagined him to be. The man even he claimed to be. Who was the real Noah?

She didn’t have time to ponder the question, because he took both her hands in his, drawing her attention back to him. “Know this. While we’re married. For this week, this trip, this asinine show, I am committed to you.” He paused and raised one hand to tuck a wisp of hair behind her ear. “Totally. Completely. Committed. To you.” With each word his voice and head lowered, until the last was a whisper against her lips.

His hand slid around to the back of her neck, then up into her hair, unfastening the clip and tossing it aside. He tangled his fingers in the strands that fell free, using enough force to keep her from pulling away as he deepened the kiss.

Abby had no thoughts of moving even the slightest bit away. She wrapped her arms around him as the tip of his tongue teased the fullness of her bottom lip. When she opened to him and he dipped inside, she almost melted from the instant flood of liquid heat that suffused her body. The warmth spread to her limbs and made her pliant as, his mouth never leaving hers, Noah lowered them both to the bed.


Buy Link: www.thewildrosepress.com/wild-wedding-weekend-paperback-p-3979.html

My website: www.debrastjohnromance.com






Debra St. John

www.debrastjohnromance.com

WILD WEDDING WEEKEND
coming 4/9/2010 from The Wild Rose Press

THIS CAN'T BE LOVE
coming soon from The Wild Rose Press
THIS TIME FOR ALWAYS
Champagne Rose and Rosebud #1 Bestseller!
from The Wild Rose Press
MISTLETOE AND FOLLY
a FREE read from The Wild Rose Press

Thursday, April 22, 2010

Barbara Edwards and Ancient Awakening



Please join me in welcoming Barbara Edwards who's here to tell us about her paranormal novel Ancient Awakening. Barbara, thanks for coming.

Paranormal, strong romantic elements, sensuous
Barbara Edwards
Ancient Awakening, a Black Rose, www.thewildrosepress.org
www.barbaraedwards.net
http://barbaraedwards.net/blog/blog.asp for Barb'Ed Comments
twitter: barb_ed

In Ancient Awakening, Police Officer ‘Mel’ Petersen investigates a death only she believes is murder. By disobeying direct orders from the Rhodes End Chief, she risks her career to follow clues that twist in circles to her backyard and lead the killer to her.
Her neighbor Stephen Zoriak is a prime suspect. Steve worked for a major pharmaceutical company where he discovered a weapon so dangerous he destroys the research. He is exposed to the dangerous organism. He suspects he is the killer and agrees to help her find the truth.
In the course of their investigation Mel and Steve find the real killer and a love that defies death.

Excerpt:
“Don’t touch me, Mel, not unless you’re willing to do a lot more,” he warned as her hazel eyes flared golden.

“Don’t threaten me, Steve. You’re…”

He pulled her into his arms despite the alarm bells clanging in his head.
Danger! Danger! Danger!

Her widened eyes met his. Mel’s hands were trapped against his chest, but she didn’t push him away. Instead, her fingers curled into his shirt.
Her mistake. His mistake was to crush her mouth under his.

Mel’s soft lips parted. Need exploded. The taste of black coffee didn’t hide her sweet flavor. As her tongue tangled with his, her arms slid around his neck and her fingers burrowed through his hair.

Steve hungered to peel the starched shirt off her soft shoulders, lay her on the thick turf and ease his desire. He tasted her brows, her cheek, along her throat, seeking the source of her call. Her pulse whipped under his mouth, awakening another need.
His teeth gently closed on the vulnerable vein.

He wanted, wanted, wanted…
Cold alarm chilled his pounding blood.

Steve gasped for air. He’d forgotten his own ironclad rule. Mel’s eyelids flittered open to reveal the molten glow of desire but he forced himself free.
He had no right to touch any woman. Not until he knew he hadn’t become what he had set out to destroy.

Monday, April 19, 2010

K.M. Daughters and Capturing Karma


Here’s the buy link folks: http://www.thewildrosepress.com/k-m-daughters-team-m-417.htm

And do check out these reviews!

4-Stars RT Book Reviews: http://www.rtbookreviews.com/books_review.php?book=40788

Fallen Angel Review – 4 ANGELS: http://fallenangelreviews.com/2010/March/stephanieb-capturingkarma.htm

NOR Top Pick: 4.5 Stars: http://www.nightowlreviews.com/nightowlromance/reviews/Review.aspx?daoid=5933

And finally here's the link to the authors website: http://www.kmdaughters.com



“Hi,” he said, a single syllable that touched off a concussion of illogical pleasure inside her.
“Hi, Brian,” she responded, tamping down the temptation to hug him hello. “How’s the new baby doing?”
“Great, thanks. How’s that bump on your head?”
Matilda touched an edge of one of the butterfly strips over her eyebrow. “Turning every color of the rainbow, but it’s fine.”
He swiveled his head toward the throaty bark of the wolfhound in the corner of the room, then scanned the other occupants in the lounge: primate, feline, porcine, wolfish and human. “Steve told me you’re a great vet. Looks like you’re pretty swamped here.”
“Shamus and I split the patient load,” she said.
“And Shamus is?”
“My brother. He came for me at the hospital yesterday?”
Brian’s eyes bored into her, a sexy smile twitched the corner of his lips. “Good.”
“And ‘good’ means?”
“The big guy isn’t competition. That’s good.”
“Ah. So we’re clear. What competition would that be?”
The sexy smile twitched again. “For but a smile from sweet Matty,” he lilted in an Irish brogue.
Squelching an impulse to grin, she molded her face serious and parroted a brogue, “Ah but woe to the knave who plies smiles with an untrue heart.”
She grinned now. “What can I do for you, Brian? Did you get an estimate to repair your car?”
“It’s about that letter you brought me. It’s related to a case. We need your help.”
Of course. “I gave you the letter. You know as much as I do. “ Her heart hammered, nothing to do with the pulse acceleration from earlier flirtation. I can’t go further with this case. No matter what I have to stay anonymous.

Thursday, April 15, 2010

Diana Castilleja and Aiza Clan Book 3: Unbound Trust


Hello, blog guests! Please help me to welcome Diana Castilleja
Aiza Clan Book 3: Unbound Trust
By: Diana Castilleja
Published By: Tease Publishing LLC
Buy link: http://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-aizaclanbook3unboundtrust-374697-140.html
ISBN # 978-1-60767-081-0
Word Count: 69,000
Heat Index: 3 flames

Categories: Paranormal/Horror Suspense/Mystery

Available in: Adobe Acrobat

Price: $3.99


Brooke Aiza has returned home after staying with her Aunt Jerry for more than a year to learn she's an aunt herself by her brother, and her sister is married! Overwhelmed by the changes taking place with her siblings, she begins to feel more than a familial affection for her new brother-in-law, and sees no escape except to put distance between them until she leaves for her parent's home.

Mitch isn't interested in any woman, content with his life. Mostly. Even his brother senses a restlessness building within him, but for what? Then when Mitch suffers a major accident, he and Brooke are all but confined to the same house, and he is left trying to remember why he didn't want anything to do with women. Because the more he sees of her, the more he needs her kiss.

The resurgance of an amulet into the sibling's lives changes everything, for the amulet can control them all. It will take two to destroy the evil stalking the Aiza family, and if Mitch refuses to face his feelings and Brooke can't overcome her hesitations to form a deeper trust, the opening of the gates of Hell could be the result.



For romance written right... well done and really good stories that you won't want to put down
Tina, Two Lips Reviews 5 kisses




Chapter One

“He’s beautiful, Delilah,” Brooke said, leaning over the tinted wood crib where her six month-old nephew slept without a care in the world. A disorderly wave of black hair flowed over his head. The baby resembled a sweet cherub in his fluffy white jumper. Brooke’s first thought was looks could be deceiving, knowing what kind of child her older brother had been. All four of the brothers and sisters had some story to scare their mother gray. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here for the big moment.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Delilah replied. Standing several inches shorter than the new mama, Brooke peered up at her sister-in-law. “Roman kept himself together long enough to get me to the hospital. Then,” Delilah said with remembered humor, her eyes twinkling, “he had my permission to fall apart.”

Brooke’s finger drifted to smooth the rich cap of hair covering Adrian’s crown. The sensation reminded her of soft down, silken and delicate. Her brother and his wife were a very lucky and blessed couple. Brooke asked curiously, “There weren’t any problems at the hospital, then?”

Delilah shook her head. “The blood samples didn’t show anything.”

Brooke exhaled in quiet relief. “I’ve always wondered. We were born at home, and needless to say, we stay away from doctors and needles and avid curiosity.”

Sunshine brightened the baby’s room from the large windows flanking the outer wall, washing the room in light and warmth. The room was filled with an impossible-to-miss gentle happiness making Brooke’s own urges seem to be right in front of her.

“From what I can tell, talking to your Dad and Roman, the changes happen after puberty. Isn’t that when you started training for it?”

Brooke stepped back from the crib where she’d been admiring her nephew. Delilah draped a thin blanket over the baby for his nap. “Yeah. It sounds right. I guess we’re a little spoiled with Selene in the family. Our own doctor.”

“Sure doesn’t hurt anything, that’s for sure,” Delilah remarked with an answering smirk. “Speaking of the dynamic duo, are they back yet?” Delilah asked as they left the baby’s room, walking into the living room together.

“No. St. Marten doesn’t have a prayer. Something else I missed while I was in Belgium with Aunt Jerry—their wedding,” Brooke replied with a regretful sigh. “I swear, if she hadn’t needed me so much, I would have been here in a heartbeat. Their wedding and Adrian’s wonderful arrival.”

“I have pictures. Do you want to see them?” Delilah offered.

“I’d love to.”

Brooke was amazed at the woman Roman had found for his wife. Delilah was a gracious, generous woman. She stood inches taller than Brooke and looked fabulous for recently having had a baby. Brooke had noticed her blue eyes first, a shade darker than sky blue. They were beautiful framed by her black hair. What shocked Brooke more was Delilah had taken their family secret and had made it her own.

When Brooke arrived the day before in Oregon, intent on finding her sister, she’d discovered Selene was on her honeymoon. Being out of the country had put Brooke out of contact with the rest of the family, and she’d missed all the good stuff. After calling Morgan and Roman, Brooke came to crash with Roman in Wyoming first. Plus, she got to see her first nephew. Dead asleep, he was a charmer.

“I’m sure once they get back, Selene will be only too happy to tell you about Bram.” Delilah turned the photo pages at a slow pace. “He’s exactly what that doctor needed,” she told Brooke with amusement.

“Is that him?” Brooke asked, examining a picture of a tall man in a tuxedo.

“That’s him. Not bad for a doctor,” Delilah said smiling in apparent memory of the wedding, her fingers dancing over the various pictures. “Really nice guy too.”

“I’m sure he is if Selene found him. She’s very gentle,” Brooke said.

Delilah’s brow flickered in surprise. “Gentle? Her?” She laughed again, but not unkindly. “Your sister will face anything. That doesn’t equate to gentle with me.”

“Reminds me of someone, but I wonder who?” Roman’s teasing bass made the women snap up from the picture album on Delilah’s lap. “Hi, Babs.” He leaned down and gave Delilah a quick kiss. “Hello, beautiful,” Roman purred.

Brooke giggled behind tight lips. It was good seeing her brother so in love. “Hi, Roman. Get everything in town?” Brooke asked as he straightened from kissing Delilah. Married life and fatherhood agreed with him, if his adoring expression was anything to believe.

“Yeah, I’ll have Adrian’s playground done in no time,” he informed them.

Delilah rolled her eyes. “Roman, he can barely roll over.”

“That’s why I’m starting now. I might have it done by the time he graduates,” he said, laughing with a rich, happy sound. He ran a hand over his midnight black hair, disturbing the thickness with his absent gesture. “I’ll be around back. Just holler if you need me.”

“All right,” Delilah replied.

Brooke continued to peruse the photos in the packed album. Selene’s wedding had been beautiful. Her dress flowed like a mythical creation of satin, lace and sheer gauze that sparkled as though it were sewn from the stars, glinting in the daylight. She had been a stunning bride.

Brooke struggled with her own fears with both her sister’s and brother’s happiness so right in front of her. Two down, two to go.

“She was gorgeous, wasn’t she?” Brooke managed to say through a raw throat a moment later.

“Yeah.” Delilah sighed. “Your parents have the most incredible house. I wouldn’t be surprised to see all of you married there.”

Brooke shook her head regretfully. “I doubt it. Morgan probably, he’s still gorgeous. Especially with those eyes. Me…” she told her wistfully. “I’m an old maid. Thirty-one sucks.”

Side by side, Delilah bumped Brooke’s shoulder with her own. “Hey, I hit thirty this year.”

“Nice try. You’re hitched and a new mom,” Brooke pointed out. “But it’s not a big deal. I’m not trying. Selene found Bram on the trails by chance when she was studying. That was fate with a capital F. The closest I get to a male form is the checkout boy at my grocery store.”

Delilah stared at Brooke, a concerned frown cinching her brow. “Brooke, I haven’t known you long, but is there something you want to talk about?”

Brooke covered up her lonely misery with a rush of words. “Just the usual. I’m over thirty. I feel that urge. I’m lonely. I’m surrounded by people who’ve found what I feel I’m missing.” Brooke drew a deep, steadying breath. No sense in being maudlin this early in her visit. “Sorry, I’ve been on a pity party for over a month now. I don’t know why,” she explained sheepishly.

Delilah leaned toward her. “Would you be offended if I looked? Maybe I could see something on the horizon for you.”

Brooke openly studied the guilelessness in the brunette’s blue gaze. “A week ago, I’d have jumped at the chance. For some reason, being home messes with me. Thanks, but no. I’ll take my lumps like a big girl.”

Delilah offered an understanding smile. “I know. It’s hard, and you’ve got a lot to catch up on.” Delilah’s attention shifted toward the nursery when Adrian began to cry. “Here, look some more. Let me go see what the prince is upset about.”

Brooke moved the album over to her lap as Delilah swept from the couch and aimed for her son’s room. There were pictures of her parents and the house where Brooke and the others had been raised. In Brooke’s mind, there was nothing like Northern Minnesota, beautiful with trees and unbelievable snow falls during the cold winters. Christmas times had been a blast with snowball fights and sledding to die for. There were pictures of Roman and Delilah, with Adrian bundled up like a miniature snowman in a cute powder blue outfit in their arms. Delilah appeared almost normal in height compared to Roman, and Roman’s expression was absolutely, gloriously, happy in the picture.

There were more photos of Selene, her blonde hair curled at the ends, standing with people, or standing alone holding a huge bouquet of tiger lilies. Brooke’s finger traced the photo. She flipped the page slowly, regretfully. She was really sorry she had missed it.

The next photo she found was of Selene and Bram. He was a very handsome guy. Thick brown hair and an aura of happiness in every picture. They were a perfect match also. Brooke could almost feel the strength of their bond in the picture at her fingertips. The way he held her close, a possessive and protective hand on her slim waist. There were a few photos of when Delilah had captured him unaware, with an adoring gaze, staring down at her sister. The blatant ease of his emotions brought up that poignant ache in her one more time. Alone, it was harder to dismiss the nagging emptiness to the background of her mind.

Where was her mate? When was she going to find the man who would hold her and cherish her? Brooke felt so old.

Monday, April 12, 2010

Laura Hogg and Romeo vs Juliet


It's Laura's turn! Laura Hogg has a wonderful new release titled Romeo vs Juliet. Laura, thanks for coming and sharing that excerpt with us. Take it away.

Blurb:
Can their love survive the trials and tribulations of time travel?

Born in Elizabethan England, Ambrose Radcliffe has spent centuries jumping
from one time period to another by order of the Big Boss. His missions are
often dangerous, and his wife, Josephine, is almost always in the middle of
the disaster.

Josephine Radcliffe has decided history needs a change for the better. Her
influence has completely eradicated Elizabethan England and reshaped the
world as not only she knows it, but Ambrose too.

Their worlds are shattered. Life will never be the same because the Big Boss
never allows for a 'do over'.

Could this cause Romeo to leave his Juliet forever?

http://www.eirelander-publishing.com/romeovsjulietii.htm

http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/11729

Excerpt:

"You still love your husband," Richard said.

"With all of my heart, I do." Her heart and mind swelled with intense
emotion for Ambrose.

Ambrose¹s heart became pinched with the same feeling. "My beloved."

"But you say he is no longer among us."

"He does not reside here on this earth in this century."

Richard blinked in confusion. "My lady?"

She sighed. "I'm a seer."

"Pardon me?"

"Richard, you will be betrayed. At Bosworth. Do not trust Lord Stanley. When
Henry Tudor engages you in battle, those you believed to be your friends
will be your downfall. I know you¹re grieving the loss of your family, and
you will leave the result of the battle for God to decide, but you will be
reckless, and you will be killed."

Richard gaped at her.

A new wave of cold fear washed over Josephine. To speak of a king¹s death
was treason and meant death.

She rushed out her next words. "I don¹t want you to die. I believe you¹re a
good man who could do so much for your country. I¹ll tell you all that God
has ordained for me to know."

³You?" Richard¹s voice shook. "You¹re a seer? You know these things to be
true?"

"I do."

He studied her face. "You tell me the truth, and you¹re not crazy. There is
no madness in your eyes. And your faith, Josephine?"

She reached into a small silk bag, which hung from her wrist and pulled out
a crystal rosary. She squeezed the crucifix in her hand. "I am loyal to the
Pope."

Richard smiled and nodded.

Nauseous, Ambrose swallowed his dread.

"Only if you marry me and give me heirs," Richard said.

Josephine gasped. Oh God, no. But"

"Unless you do not really care for me?"

"But I do." As a human being. "You¹re innocent. I know it," she said to
Richard.

³Then prove it," he responded.

I have no bloody choice but to make him believe it¹s so. I¹ll find a way to
escape before the wedding ceremonyĆ .her thoughts whirled.

"Yes, I¹ll marry you." When pigs fly.

Richard squeezed her.

"Shut the bloody thing off," Ambrose said and spun around.

Belinda pointed her finger to the screen, and it became smoky gray. Ambrose
glanced down. Small changes occurred in his Elizabethan attire. His doublet
grew two inches longer and became a shade darker. His hose became less
poofy, and his shoes less, well, fashionable in his opinion, with no heel at
all, and overall they were more conservative, but oddly, far richer in
materials. He now wore silk and velvet, though as a commoner he would not
have been allowed to walk around Elizabethan England in such, and this
confused him.

"My clothes! She succeeded," he dropped off, the breath leaving his body.
Elizabethan England was gone.

"Yes, the bubble protects time-traveling humans and animals, but clothes and
objects change according to the new time-line."

Anger for his wife sizzled in his heart.

Friday, April 9, 2010

Pat Dale and For the Love of Hattie


Welcome to day three of excerpt month. Today's excerpt is from Pat Dale's For The Love Of Hattie. Her book is available at http://www.redrosepublishing.com. Pat, welcome to the blog.

Blurb:

For ten long years, Hattie McCall had turned a deaf ear to her dad’s sage advice. And for all those years, she’s found herself in a self-imposed prison. Unwilling to admit the mistake that cost her the love of her life, she’s been unable to find anything other than her teaching to provide solace.

Now her dad has died and she’s given up her career to return to Leadburg Missouri to run the family store. This means she has to face Brad Trimble, the boyfriend she’d spurned, now the man responsible for her store’s advertising; also the man she still longs for deep in the heart she can’t hear.



Excerpt:


Nearly blinded by the afternoon sun, Hattie stood atop the footstool in the store window finishing the fall display. As she stretched precariously to place one last pin, the cowbell tinkled over the main door.

Intent on completing her work, she extended her arm as far as it would reach just as a familiar male voice boomed, "Well hello, Hattie McCall. Long time, no…"

"Ohhh!" she cried as she lost her balance and toppled off the stool. The man who'd startled her reached out and grabbed her from the air as though she were a feather.
"Gotcha," he said, triumphantly.

That voice! Could it be?

Embarrassed but somehow comforted in those big strong arms, she twisted her neck to look up into smiling hazel eyes. Eyes that had once charmed her out of her skull. Oh no! Not Brad!

The assistant store manager had heard the commotion and came running, his eyes big as silver dollars. "Miss Hattie, you okay?"

"Sure she's okay, Gerald," Brad said, "but I think she's falling for me. Again." He winked at the older man.

She gave him a withering scowl. "In your dreams, Brad Trimble. Put me down."

He placed the petite redhead on her feet and stepped back. "Sorry, Hattie. I didn't mean to startle you off your perch."

"Why should a single thing you do startle me?" She stuck her pierced finger in her mouth and glared at him. "I just jabbed myself with a pin. That's all."

Checking out the smiling man—the last person she ever wanted to see in her store — she could tell his eyes had mellowed, but even now were as mysterious as they'd always been. At first glance, he didn't really seem to have changed much. Still tall and trim as ever, his searing eyes never let one know what he was thinking.

"As I was saying, it's been a long time."

"It has, hasn't it?"

"Over ten years, if memory serves me correctly." He shuffled his long feet, the embarrassed flicker in his eyes confessing that he knew how long since their failed high school relationship, probably down to the minute. Just as she.

Hattie muttered, "Has it been that long? My, how time does fly." She shook her coppery curls, the sun's rays reflecting off them. No way was she going to let him know she'd also kept painful count of time. "So, what brings you to my store, Brad?"

"Nothing earthshaking. I'm editor of the Express now and your dad always did his store advertising with us. I thought it would be good to go over the account and set up your fall schedule. You know, now that you're in charge of the store."

"I see." As the new owner of Leadburg Mercantile, she should have known Brad would be coming. Something in the hesitating way he'd finished his statement caused her to stare into his eyes again. He was still smiling but something serious stirred inside him. She'd never been able to read his face when he was like that.

"Hattie, I'm really sorry about Harry's passing. Your dad was a wonderful man. I should have spoken to you at the funeral, but you were busy and it wasn't a good time."

Another look at those deceiving eyes and she knew her being busy wasn't the reason he'd avoided her at the funeral. "You're right. I realized Dad wasn't feeling well but I never dreamed he was that bad. I..." Her voice broke and tears rimmed her eyes as she took his offered hand.

"Harry was very special," Brad said softly.

"Um-hum. He was wonderful and I miss him so much." Only his bending down to retrieve the briefcase he'd dropped when catching her broke the awkward moment.

Finally, he offered, "So, you're the boss around the store now. I understand you were a teacher for awhile."

"I was. Down at Farmville. English." Hattie smiled, though she wished he'd stop staring. "Can you believe it? A Leadburg graduate teaching at our arch-rival school?"

"I hope you didn't tell them some of the things we used to call them up here."

"You kidding? It was all I could do to hold my tongue when the schools competed."

"How long were you there?"

"Five years. Ever since I graduated from the Cape." She used the silence that followed to move out of the blinding rays of the sun. "Let's go to my office, Brad. It's cooler up there."

She led him across the huge century-old store, past dry goods and hardware, and through the grocery section. They angled around the meat counter and up the worn wooden stairs to the room at the top where he followed her into the tiny air-conditioned office.

Monday, April 5, 2010

Sylvie Kaye and Loving Jilly



Today's guest excerpt is from Sylvie Kaye. Sylvie, thanks for coming.


LOVING JILLY by Sylvie Kaye
Coming from steamy New Orleans July 9, 2010!!

Jilly is a New Orleans daycare aide by day and by night an errand-running caregiver to the three quirky aunts who raised her. What Jilly doesn’t have is time for a man who wants more than she can spare.


Zack is a brawny carpenter. He’s attracted to Jilly but wants
the real deal. Will his patience and persistence win her trust and her heart? Or will her aunts’ stop his clock with a voodoo hex?


Excerpt
© Copyright, Sylvie Kaye


As soon as she opened the front door a male voice boomed. “…great mahogany woodwork.”
The carpenter.

How had she missed seeing his vehicle? He must’ve parked on the street instead of in their narrow driveway.

“The wood mouldings are all hand carved.” Pride tinged Aunt Gloria’s voice.

Jilly finger-combed her hair, narrowly missing her nose with her tote bag. Although Ann had assured her, “Construction workers aren’t particular,” she’d rather not look like a snipped daisy left out in the harsh sun too long. She was attracted to the virile man, and the mere sound of his voice had her blood pumping and her heartbeat racing.
Or maybe it had nothing to do with him. Maybe she was just plain horny.

After adjusting her twisted waistband and re-tucking her washable, pink silk blouse, she jostled her parcels and plastered a smile to her lips in case opportunity reared its handsome head.

When she stepped into the parlor, she was surprised not to see Aunt Vinny. She usually sat rocking in her chair and tatting the lopsided lace scarves that dotted every available tabletop and overstuffed chair and sofa in the apartment. The art of sizing and shaping escaped her aunt, who swore she didn’t need to wear spectacles.
Actually, the Pajeaud women never swore, though they did mutter ladylike oaths from time to time.

Aunt Gloria’s voice rose to the same octave she used for singing in church choir on Sundays. “What’s this going to cost, young man?”

With his broad, muscled back to Jilly, the carpenter stood in front of the ornate carved bookcase. He seemed real and within her reach. The fingers clutching her packages ached to feel just how attainable.

Excerpts and Contests of all Sylvie Kaye’s book at www.sylviekaye.com

BANNED IN TEXAS~In Print at Amazon.com & Barnes&Noble
WRONG SIDE OF LOVE,Wayback, Tx~The Wild Rose Press
DEVIL IN COWBOY BOOTS ~Amazon and B&N
HER MAINE MAN~In ebook and Print

Thursday, April 1, 2010

Danielle Thorne and Turtle Soup


The month of April is excerpt month at the blog. There are lots of good authors out there whose work I think you'd enjoy, so I'm featuring them all month. This week's guest is Danielle Thorne, and here's her excerpt.

The buy link is at the end of the excerpt.

Excerpt:
Out of the corner of his eye he saw Sara peeling off her wet suit. She was under the shower head in the rinse area, one hand against the green tile to keep her balance.
He couldn't help watching the little wiggle in her hips. The harder she pulled, the longer the rubber stretched as if it were a piece of black gum. He would have laughed out loud if jets of water weren't smoothing her hair down in a wheat curtain against her back.

Her legs were athletic and trim. She needed a tan, his defenses observed. Before he could stop himself he stepped into the shower to help her pull the wetsuit the rest of the way off. He caught her off balance and had to grab her wrist so she didn't fall. Her hand landed squarely on his bare chest, his eyes in the valley between the cups of her dark bikini.

One leg of the wetsuit had flopped to the tiles, while the other was still glued to her calf. She looked down foolishly for a moment as if unsure what to do but they're eyes met and she seemed to trade her embarrassment for unease.

The words I'm sorry passed through his mind, but he kissed her instead. Without thinking, he closed his eyes and put his mouth on hers, timidly, in case she bit him. She didn't bite, but she didn't lean into him either. Her lips had a light layer of salt residue that had not rinsed off and he kissed her harder enjoying the scent of her breath that rose up with the steam.

With a jolt the water temperature switched to ice cold and he stumbled back. Sara had not been lost as lost in the moment as he'd thought. "I'm sorry," she said as she screwed the faucet handle off.

She wiped the water off her face and ran her hands over her hair. He moved to put his arms around her again but she stepped back out of reach. "Don't. I'm sorry. I didn't mean that."

Her face was so red it looked like her cheeks could bleed. Humiliation singed Jack's pride. "You didn't mean that?"

"No." She tripped over her wetsuit trying to escape.

He reached for a towel and wordlessly she accepted. Struggling, she pulled the other leg of her wetsuit off at last. He stood on the pool deck waiting for something more.

Of course she didn't mean it. She didn't like him one iota. She would head straight home and tell her little niece everything. There'd be a cookie on the menu tomorrow called Crummy Kiss.

He drew an angry breath but before he could insult her she stuck her hand out like a traffic cop. "Don't say it."

"Say what?" A cold wave of disgust washed over him. Why had he let himself think she was different? "What makes you think I meant it either?" He thought he saw her eyes water but she quickly wiped her face. He spun on his heel and stalked off before she looked up again.

Buy it now at http://www.king-cart.com/cgi-bin/cart.cgi?store=Awe-Struck&product=Turtle+Soup&exact_match=exact


website: www.daniellethorne.jimdo.com
Author of Historical and Contemporary Romance
www.daniellethorne.jimdo.com
www.TheBalancedWriter.blogspot.com
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