An Affair to Dismember (The Matchmaker), Elise Sax {$0.99}

Certain to appeal to fans of Janet Evanovich, Jennifer Crusie, and Katie MacAlister, Elise Sax’s hilarious series debut introduces matchmaker-in-training Gladie Burger, who stumbles into a dangerous quagmire of murder and red-hot romance.

Three months has been Gladie Burger’s limit when it comes to staying in one place. That’s why Gladie is more than a little skeptical when her eccentric Grandma Zelda recruits her to the family’s matchmaking business in the quaint small town of Cannes, California. What’s more, Gladie is also highly unqualified, having a terrible track record with romance. Still, Zelda is convinced that her granddaughter has “the gift.” But when the going gets tough, Gladie wonders if this gift has a return policy.

When Zelda’s neighbor drops dead in his kitchen, Gladie is swept into his bizarre family’s drama. Despite warnings from the (distractingly gorgeous) chief of police to steer clear of his investigation, Gladie is out to prove that her neighbor’s death was murder. It’s not too long before she’s in way over her head—with the hunky police chief, a dysfunctional family full of possible killers, and yet another mysterious and handsome man, whose attentions she’s unable to ignore. Gladie is clearly being pursued—either by true love or by a murderer. Who will catch her first?

What readers are saying:

“Elise Sax’s new Matchmaker series is off to a rousing start! . . . Sax gives the comic mystery genre a new spin. . . . A fun read sure to entertain.”—RT Book Reviews

“Fans of laugh-out-loud romantic suspense will enjoy this new author as she joins the ranks of Janet Evanovich, Katie MacAllister, and Jennifer Crusie.”—Booklist

“Elise Sax will win your heart.”—New York Times bestselling author Jill Shalvis

“In the tradition of Janet Evanovich’s Stephanie Plum series, Elise Sax’s new novel is a funny, sexy ride.”—Valerie Frankel, author of Four of a Kind

“What a fun book! It will leave readers begging for more.”—Kim Gruenenfelder, author of There’s Cake in My Future

The average Amazon Review is currently 4.5 stars {55 reviews}.

 Click here to read more about and purchase An Affair to Dismember (The Matchmaker) for  $0.99 from Amazon!

Next History: The Girl Who Hacked Tomorrow, Lee Baldwin {FREE!}

An Epic Contemporary Fantasy Adventure

Wounded… by an absent mother, adrift in her maturing sexuality, a young woman conjures a supernatural being into the heart of the U.S. Pentagon and humanity is about to be reprogrammed.

When she finds in her deepest being a secret twin, the future is due for an attitude adjustment. Will there be a collective, agonizing dive into chaos and depravity? Will it reveal humanity’s true purpose? Or, will nothing change at all, except for the dark fate of one luckless girl?

Whatever comes, reality will be rebooted!

Next History weaves big-iron predictive knowledge, a plugged-in world population, Sumerian creation myth, and a demonic presence with a hip sensibility to launch us beyond the hyperdata age toward a shifting and dangerous event horizon.

The story is a head-changing whirl toward a future world so outrageous, the survivors will be forced to adapt, or die.

What readers are saying:

A unique voice in story telling. “Next History” is humorous, a cliff hanger, a marvelous love story, and perfectly executed. ~ Ernie Smitty on Amazon

What a great novel. Picked this up because I had enjoyed Baldwin’s prior book, “Angle of Attack: An Adventure in Aviation, Love, and Crime.” I enjoyed this much more and think it compares to “Even Cowgirls Get the Blues” by Tom Robbins. Pick this up and enjoy the read. ~ Jed M. Wells on Amazon

Hope… The reading of this book reinforced beliefs I have held for some time. Thank you for hope. I loved the book… I recommend it. ~ Dragonviolet on Amazon

What a Find! Absolutely AWESOME book! I was looking for escape fiction, and while the book provided that, it is so much more. It made me think, and it is changing my life. If you want to know the deepest secrets of the universe, this book won’t spoon feed you, but will give you lots of terrific hints. Look over there! Consider this! What would you choose? And last, best, what will I choose? Now I need to find another book by LeeBaldwin! ~ Maggie Uh-O on Amazon

The average Amazon Reader Review Rating is currently 4.8 stars {12 reviews}.

 Click here to read more about and purchase Next History: The Girl Who Hacked Tomorrow for FREE!

THE FRUGAL FIND OF THE DAY: PX Me (How I Became a Published Author, Got Micro-Famous, and Married a Millionaire) (Volume One), Abbe Diaz {$0.99}

Sponsored Post

Abbe Diaz‘s Frugal Find Under Nine:

Description of PX Me (How I Became a Published Author, Got Micro-Famous, and Married a Millionaire) (Volume One):

When Abbe Diaz published her journal, PX This – Diary of the “Maître d’ to the Stars” [née Diary of the Potted Plant] in 2004, she’d had no idea what she was in for. Sure, she expected the process would be difficult and she might never work in the fine dining restaurant industry ever again, but she never imagined the truth could be so controversial— in a book that’s essentially about HAVING DINNER.

Despite PX This being lauded by most of her colleagues (and some of the most illustrious names in the business) as “the bible of the [NYC] industry,” Diaz soon learned the politics of Food and/or “Culture” Media & PR is a game that’s dirtier than last night’s dishes. Finding herself under unjustified fire from various vastly popular and influential periodicals, news blogs, food press, online foodie communities, and other professional and aspiring writers, Diaz (a textbook Scorpio/Monkey) quickly realized [again] there were two things in her life she would never be willing to do: 1) Take unmerited bullshit, and 2) Kiss spiteful pretentious ass.

As you can probably imagine, that went over reeeally well. Mistruths, mudslinging, manipulation, misappropriation, corruption, censorship, and the tarnishing of her character— as well as the livelihoods of her friends and loved ones— are just some of the things she subsequently endured.

This is that diary.

PX Me. (How I Became a Published Author, Got Micro-Famous, and Married a Millionaire) is a ten volume eSeries released this summer.

 

Accolades:

“The New York service industry’s Norma Rae, Abbe Diaz… the Service Industry’s Nikke Finke…” – BlackBook Magazine

“”The Devil wears Prada” meets “Kitchen Confidential”

“… one of the funniest books I have read in a very long time… really draws back the curtain on some of the hottest restaurants ever!”

“… a truly engaging restaurant tell-all told with humor, candor, and razor-sharp wit…. what a great book…” 

 

An excerpt from PX Me (How I Became a Published Author, Got Micro-Famous, and Married a Millionaire) (Volume One):

THURSDAY, MARCH 11, 2004. 11:16AM
My friends at 66 still give me all the gossip. Will Smith was there recently for a big dinner and tipped a hundred percent, the bill was $500 so he left another $500. And another night Courtney
Love locked herself in one of the bathrooms and insisted they serve her dumplings in there. Oh and Joaquin Phoenix showed up the other night too, out of nowhere he started break dancing in the middle of the dining room.

Sigh. Sometimes I miss it. But not that much.

TUESDAY, MARCH 16, 2004. 9:41AM
I broke up with Marc Bagutta again this weekend, he is driving me out of my mind. How many times is that now, thirty-five, thirty-six? I am beginning to lose count.

Whatever. Last night was dinner with friends at Megu and I got to meet Koji Imai. Megu is really amazing, the place is colossal and beautiful and the food and drinks are spectacular. We ended up staying very late until they were practically closing, so we dragged Koji Imai out with us. He thanked each and every employee on his way out, he even hugged his dishwashers goodbye. We took him up the street to Grace Bar and the other half of his nightly staff happened to be there unwinding. They applauded as soon as he walked in. Can you imagine, applauding for your boss.

It was like falling through a cosmic rip into a bizarro world.

SATURDAY, MARCH 20, 2004. 10:12AM
Marc Bagutta is trying hard to get me back. Again. Yesterday I agreed to meet him for a drink at the Mercer, and I ended up yelling at him for an hour straight. David Blaine was sitting with
Leonardo DiCaprio directly across from us and I didn’t even notice until they got up to leave, that’s how livid I was. He swears he is going to “make it up” to me. Again.

TUESDAY, MARCH 23, 2004. 3:16PM
Marc managed to score a reservation for tonight at Spice Market, this is part of his strategy to earn my forgiveness. Apparently he spoke directly to Medusa again, but this time she didn’t bother asking him with whom he would be dining. The last time he tried to make a reservation for us, she refused him and told him he was “welcome anytime, as long as it’s not with” me. I would love to hear her try to verbalize her rationality on that one. “Abbe is not welcome at any Jean-Georges establishments everrr because she had the unmitigated gall to quit after I
sodomized her with my psychoses for months on end.” Except that is way too many syllables for you-know-who.

What ever, Miss Thing. Hah, wait until she gets a load of my book. I like to think I’m just doing her a favor, she will finally have a good reason to be so vicious with everybody. And I know the only reason she even granted Marc the reservation is because she didn’t want him calling Jean-Georges directly like he did the last time when she refused him. Oh I am not stupid, I can foresee exactly how this will go down. She will just tell the maiterdee save two tables, one will be a good PX one and the other will be a crappy POS one and she will make him seat Marc Bagutta at the crappy table if he shows up with an Asian chick (me).

 

PX Me (How I Became a Published Author, Got Micro-Famous, and Married a Millionaire) (Volume One) is available for purchase at:

 Amazon Kindle for $0.99

 

Connect with Abbe Diaz:

Author Website: http://abbe-diaz.com/books/

Author Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/PXthis

Twitter: https://twitter.com/pxthis

Hot Water (A Mossy Bog Book), Maggie Toussaint {$2.99 or Borrow FREE w/Prime!}

Solving Mossy Bog’s first fire fatality could net police officer Laurie Ann Dinterman the promotion she desperately wants. When the state arson investigator arrives to take over the case, Laurie Ann is assigned to give the man everything he needs while keeping him alive. The fact he’s the sexiest man ever to hit town shouldn’t make a difference.

Hot on the trail of a serial arsonist, Wyatt North demands justice for his partner, the arsonist’s first victim. He’ll find the murderer or die trying–no matter how distracting the tall, lithe figure of his local partner is.

As the investigation zeroes in on a suspect uncomfortably close to Laurie Ann’s life, her cop instincts conflict with her feelings for Wyatt. Worse, the arsonist will do anything to protect his identity. Can Laurie Ann accept the truth in time…or will she and Wyatt go up in flames?

What readers are saying:

“A terrific read. Highly recommended” – Polly Iyer

“A fast paced novel that will keep you guessing right to the end” – Nora Snowdon

“Couldn’t put it down” -Robin Covington

“Hot Water, a Mossy Bog novel, takes the reader to a new level of enjoyment” -Rising Star Reviews

The current Average Amazon Review Rating is 4.6 stars {24 reviews}.

Click here to read more about and purchase Hot Water (A Mossy Bog Book) for $2.99 or Borrow FREE w/Prime!

THE FRUGAL FIND OF THE DAY: Jake (California Dreamy), Rian Kelley {$2.99 or Borrow FREE w/Prime!}

Sponsored Post

Rian Kelley’s Frugal Find Under Nine:

Description:

Red-Hot and Ready!
Ivy has been too good for too long,
so when wickedly hot, but by-the-book
Marine Lieutenant Jake finds
her stranded on the side of the
road, she decides giving into temptation
is exactly what she needs.
But will they burn as brightly outside
the bedroom?

 

Accolade:

5 Stars on Amazon!

This review is from: Jake (California Dreamy) (Kindle Edition)
Wow! Hot and steamy. The romance was fantastic. The story line was good .It fit together nicely and made for enjoyable reading.

This review is from: Jake (California Dreamy) (Kindle Edition)
Really great book. It has a really great story line & that’s what I love. Absolutely great!!! Highly recommended. Great!!!!

This review is from: Jake (California Dreamy) (Kindle Edition)
I have to admit, I’m a sucker for strong military men, and Jake fits that to a T! I wish he was my boyfriend, and I can’t wait to check out more books in this series!

This review is from: Jake (California Dreamy) (Kindle Edition)
This is a sexy story and this author has just become a new favorite.
I can’t wait to read the next book.

This review is from: Jake (California Dreamy) (Kindle Edition)
I loved this story. Jake was the perfect hero. A few flaws but hardly noticeable when you looked at the whole picture. The heroine had a good brain in her head and a backbone. They had a few issues to work thru but they did so. Their connection could be felt through the page. I love this kind of story. A man and a woman and their coming together. Perfect. I highly recommend. Jake will be one of my favorite heroes. Great read. Give it time because you won’t be able to put it down until you finish it. Loved it.

This review is from: Jake (California Dreamy) (Kindle Edition)
Can’t wait til the continuation of Jake and Ivy.

We all want to fall in love at first site and this books lets that happen for us. Ms. Kelley hits
the nail on the head. Nice to read about a couple who don’t start out hating each other like most romance books do. Ivy and Jake take us with them on their whirlwind romance and we develop a vested interest in what’s going to happen next with them.

I look forward with anticipation for Ms. Kelley’s next book.

Easy read with a page turning storyline. You did good Ms. Kelley!


Amazon Reader Reviews:

Jake (California Dreamy) currently has an Amazon Reader Review rating of 4.5 stars, with 29 reviews. Read the reviews here.

 

An excerpt from Jake (California Dreamy):

Chapter One

The road was dusty and potted and sure enough the bald tires on her Jeep Patriot weren’t up to the challenge. Ivy heard the pop before the steering wheel jerked in her hands and pulled the car left, into on-coming traffic—if there was any. But her luck was running in negative numbers lately. She was on a desolate stretch of state road, between islands of civilization, with a cell phone that had a weak battery.
She pumped the brakes and wrestled with the steering wheel. As the car slowed, the wind through the open windows calmed enough that she could hear the crunch of gravel under her tires. She coasted to a stop on the shoulder, then pried her fingers loose and flipped on the emergency flashers.
She had no spare. She’d loaned it to her neighbor, who was in thicker dire straits than Ivy.
But she had a can of Repair! that promised to re-inflate tires and keep them going fifty-plus miles; she had flares, a marker and cardboard she could rip off a box in the back and make into a distress sign if the ‘miracle in a can’ didn’t work.
This was not her first emergency; just the latest in what seemed like a lifetime of living
on the edge, waiting for the next round to begin.
She pulled her purse into her lap and rummaged through it for her cell phone, a Blackberry more than four years old and dropped so many times the red veneer had chipped off around the edges.
Cell phones were a luxury. As were movie rentals and pedicures, her morning frappuccinos and shoes priced over forty dollars. She’d given up a lot over the past nineteen months. She had no regrets about it. Not even now.
Although tires were not an excess, two repairs in a single month was more than her budget could sustain. She’d had to choose between those and a tune up. A fifty-fifty gamble she’d just lost.
She pressed her thumb to the ball on her phone and the screen lit up. Then faded. Before it went black, Ivy noted the red x over the tower icon and the complete absence of reception bars. Even if her phone was capable of a full charge, it would be of no use to her here.
She climbed out of the car and into a dry wind that plastered her cotton skirt to her bottom and legs. Long, supple legs. She’d given up her membership to a fancy gym and purchased a pair of running shoes. That was one of her better decisions. She felt stronger than ever, had shed the eight pounds she hadn’t been able to chisel away before hitting the pavement, and her mind was a lot clearer, too. She loved a landslide win. The thought of it made her smile, which instantly covered her teeth in grit.
The desert. August. Sand and wind and plenty of both. Ivy had trouble remembering that. She made this drive twice a month, without fail, but the sharp air and the unrelenting sun, which dried everything to tinder, was always on the outside. It was three hundred and thirty miles from San Diego to Las Vegas and Ivy did it in one long stretch, fueling up before departure, loading up on water and fresh fruit. She did the same for the trip back. There was nothing worth pausing over out here. Not a lick of green in the landscape. No scent of salt in the wind.
Ivy loved San Diego, even if living there meant a five hundred square foot studio apartment and street parking. All she had to do was throw open her windows and inhale. She was less than a block from the Bay and just a short sprint from the boardwalk and the beach. When she wasn’t working late or already outside running, she perched in one of the windows and watched the sun slip through its palette of colors before disappearing into the sea. Nothing beat that.
She walked around the car, stood at the hood and noted its unnatural leaning. The wind pulled her hair into long streamers, the sun catching the red highlights. She was dark where her sister was light. Ivy had taken her coloring from her father, who was born in Mexicali. She’d gotten her bone structure from him, too, with broad cheeks and full lips and a straight nose that flared slightly. Of course, she had only her mother’s word on that—Ivy’s father left long before she’d developed any meaningful memories of him.
She took a step back and bent slightly at the waist to examine the extent of the damage.
Front tire, driver’s side. She’d known that before getting out. But the tire was a goner. It had already started to shred, rubber peeling away from the rim. Not good news.
She didn’t panic. She was a pro, now, at handling crisis situations. At saving herself. She’d had to do it at thirteen, when her mother, in one of her drunken stupors, had set fire to their home, and again at twenty-two, when she’d walked away from an abusive marriage. A blown tire in the middle of nowhere was an inconvenience. It wasn’t life-threatening.
Ivy lifted her chin and propped her hands on her hips. The wind blew drifts of sand over the hood and roof of the car, coating the black paint and the windshield. She felt it in her hair and knew she probably had a fine dusting of pale over mahogany. She gazed beyond the car, but there was no traffic coming from the west. She turned and looked east, the way she’d come. Nothing.
She had taken this two lane interchange on purpose. Less traffic meant swifter travel. She worked Sunday evenings at a job doing what she loved—respiratory therapist. Nights on the pod, as they called it, were no less busy than her days on the acute care unit at Children’s Hospital, but there was a hushed quality to them that soothed her. She worked a twelve hour shift, seven to seven, checking ventilators and coaching children through coughing and breathing exercises.
It was rewarding. And it had given Ivy her first flush of personal value.
She didn’t want to be late. At ten after four in the afternoon, that gave her an hour to get help and get on her way and almost two hours to finish the drive.
So she would slip out of her sandals and into her running shoes and trek however many miles to a call box. In California, that could be as much as seven miles. She’d run five that morning.
Ivy opened the back hatch of the car and pulled the cardboard box toward her. She kept supplies in here—oil, coolant, jumper cables, a flashlight. She tore off a flap and then searched for a black Sharpie, which she found pushed to the back of the glove compartment. ‘Call police,’ she wrote in big block letters and then taped the sign to the back window. Next, she wrote a note on the back of a grocery receipt: ‘Walking west to call box.’ She slipped this on the dash, in front of the steering wheel, and then dug her running shoes out of her bag in the back seat.
Running was a privilege. Holly wasn’t able to, not yet. Her sister, who had run track in high school—mostly so that she had a reason to be out of the house—and then spent the past ten years competing in long distance races and always placed, was no longer able to run. She was still relearning to walk. Ivy blinked away the first sheen of tears before they could overwhelm her. Holly had worked relentlessly for the past nineteen months to get her mobility back, and yesterday the doctor had said that she was at the halfway point. He’d said that three months ago, too. He’d warned them from the beginning that Holly could hit a brick wall anywhere along the way. It was inevitable. And Ivy worried that maybe that time was now.
Ivy was in the car with Holly the night their lives had changed forever again. She remembered everything about the crash. How they had left the restaurant laughing and it had felt so good after such a long silence—Ivy’s fault for refusing to speak to her sister for nearly three years. They had gotten on the freeway, determined to catch the sunset while sitting on the beach sipping margaritas. A celebration and a promise not to let anything—or anyone—come between them again.
And then, in the gathering dusk, a car had come barreling toward them. The wrong way on the freeway. Ivy remembered seeing the flashing bar of police lights behind it. And how those colors had seemed to merge and shatter on impact. But she never lost consciousness. For a few moments, while her mind and body absorbed the shock of the crash, all had gone dark. But she was still able to hear—Holly’s gasps shuddering into a low groan and then into silence.
She had used her medical training to keep her sister alive while the police fluttered around her peripheral, offering help, following Ivy’s instructions. Then the wail of the siren as the paramedics arrived.
Ivy had broken her wrist. Her sister had lost her leg, above the knee, and had broken several bones including a vertebrae and femur.
They rode to the hospital together inside an ambulance that rocked through sharp turns and gathered darkness as the sun set and her sister’s conditioned worsened.
When they were kids, Ivy had been all about Holly. She was her big sister by two years and Ivy wanted to do everything she did. Holly had tolerated it well. As teens, the tables turned and it was Holly who spent much of her time looking out for Ivy. Nothing like a dysfunctional family life to pull siblings together—and then eventually tear them apart. Ivy had allowed all those insecurities that were planted by the experience of never being good enough to command their mother’s attention or to deserve the presence of a father, whittle away any shred of self-confidence or value.
After high school, Holly had tried to take Ivy with her. Her sister had received a scholarship to UC Berkeley. California. A fresh start, leaving a dripping Oregon behind and the damp, shadowed mobile home where they had lived with their sometimes sober mother. Her sister was willing to work nights—every night—waitressing, and attend school full time as well, if it meant Ivy was with her and safe.
But Ivy had other ideas, and they all revolved around Trace Patrick. She was in love and so sure of it, at the age of sixteen she’d accepted his proposal, declared herself emancipated and finished high school—because Trace’s parents had insisted—with an engagement ring on her finger. Instead of donning cap and gown, she and Trace had climbed into his shiny blue Ford 150 and shot over back streets and down the thin ribbon of highway all the way to the coast and gotten married, with two strangers as their witnesses.
Ivy had worn a pair of blue jeans, split at the knee, and a red t-shirt with their school mascot holding a baseball bat and with the number four printed on the back—Trace was the state’s top homerun hitter and a killer first baseman with only two steals his entire four years.
They had left the next morning for Arizona, where Trace had been placed by the San Diego Padres. He’d made it to their farm team. A place where he would bulk up and perfect his swing. Only that never happened. And Trace, who had been so full of dreams he’d seemed to float—the very trait that Ivy had needed in her life—came crashing down.
He’d taken Ivy with her. And the only swing he’d improved upon was his left hook. He brawled at the bars and he brought it home afterwards. It took Ivy four years to find her way out.
Ivy had made mistakes. More than a few. Some more serious than others. But she’d fixed what she could and put to rest what she couldn’t. And there was no looking back.
Holly insisted she didn’t. Not even now. Nineteen months after the crash, her sister was still using a cane. The doctors had expected much less of her. They had said that she would never recover full mobility. That she may never do more than sit upright. But they didn’t know Holly, or Ivy, or the circumstance in which they were raised.
The Warner girls were not quitters.
They didn’t run away from their problems—not anymore—they ran toward them.
Holly would walk again, under her own steam. She would run again, with a new
hydraulic leg crafted specially for her. And Ivy would be there with her. For now, it had to be every other weekend. But she hoped that would change. That Holly would finally agree to move west.
Ivy pulled a pair of socks out of the bag, along with a pair of shorts and her runner’s bra. If she ran to the call box, it would cut off a good chunk of time. She stood inside the open car door for a little modesty, dropped her sneakers on the blacktop, and slipped off her sandals. She shimmied into the shorts and then rolled her skirt down to her ankles and off in a single, economical movement. Ivy was a doer. She didn’t like feeling swamped by a problem and knew life was in the solution. She was living proof of that.
She sat down on the edge of the seat and pushed her feet into socks and then shoes and started lacing up. If the call box was close enough, she might even have time for a quick dinner before her shift started. A shower, too.
“Ma’am.”
She was so engrossed in carrying out her plan that she didn’t hear the approaching car. Later, she would blame it on the wind that clapped in her ears. On the zone that she always slipped into whenever she became a woman of action, which is how she liked to think of it—whether she was running or pulling herself out of one of life’s nose dives.
Ivy dropped her hands, which had been gathering the hem of her shirt in order to pull it over her head, and looked up. Way up.
Six feet, broad shoulders, buzz cut. Probably a Marine.
That ribbon of thought was immediately followed by: rugged, like the man was cut out of
the dry, craggy hills that surrounded them; intense—his mouth was firm, lips thin, eyes a startling, clear shade of green-blue and focused relentlessly on her face.
Blond. Ivy had a weakness for blonds built like a god.
Of course, with her current work schedule and her history of poor relationships, she indulged only from a distance now.
Ivy placed a hand on the open door, and realized that she still held her bra, as white as a flag of surrender. She tossed it into the backseat behind her and ignored the flush of heat that swept up her neck and settled in her cheeks.
But he had noticed and a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. He was an imposing figure. Not just tall and broad, but cut. The muscles of his shoulders and pecs were clearly outlined by his t-shirt.
Her skin tingled and flushed with sensitivity. Even her nipples responded, puckering into beaded delight.
Ivy made herself blink—it was the only way to break the tension between them.
She wondered where it came from. The sudden awareness of him—his shape, his strength, the chiseled features—and her swift reaction to his everything male.
She never responded this way—so quickly and completely—especially to a stranger.
She thought: Wow. And it kept repeating, like ticker tape running through her head.
She stood and said, “It’s about time.” Thinking about all the scenarios in which she’d found herself over the years—wishing someone would send in the Marines—but with no one but herself to rely on, and not at all about the timing of his arrival. But her words irritated him. She could tell by the way his face tightened, his eyes became hooded.
He lifted his hands—strong, long, tapered fingers—and placed them on his hips. Narrow hips in snug denim. The move caused his biceps to bunch, the corded muscles in his forearms to ripple. And she noticed three things at once—a hot spear of need shot through her body; she was badly in need of some male attention; and them were fighting words.
“Sorry to keep you waiting,” he returned, sarcasm slicing and dicing his words.

 

Jake (California Dreamy) is available for purchase at:

Amazon Kindle for $2.99 or Borrow FREE w/Prime!


Connect with Rian Kelley:

Author Website: riankelley.blogspot.com

Between Boyfriends, Sarka-Jonae Miller {$0.99 After Memorial Day Sale!}

At first glance, twenty-one-year-old Jan Weston has it all: a gorgeous boyfriend, fun friends, and wealthy parents who take care of all those pesky credit card bills.

Then her boyfriend dumps her, her friendships fall apart, and her parents cut her off. Suddenly without money, without a man, and without a plan, it’s time for Jan to grow up.

Determined to get her life back on track, Jan decides it’s time to make it on her own. Can she find her way as a single lady in San Diego? Can she fix her friendships, her job prospects, and her hair? And can she keep her vow that she’ll never date again, even after she meets a guy who just might be perfect for her?

BETWEEN BOYFRIENDS is a sexy, hilarious story of living life, finding love, and growing up… but not necessarily in that order.

What readers are saying:

“This book is the ultimate chick-lit read–a light-hearted romp focused on the travails of Jan, a college student dumped by her boyfriend, an SDSU student. The moment proves an epiphany, as Jan resolves to stop dating and find fulfillment as a single woman.” – East County Magazine

Between Boyfriends “presents a unique twist on the chick lit genre.” – Hollywood & Vine magazine

“Over the course of the book, Jan, who is in her early 20s, begins to grow as a person and even strikes up a true friendship with a man, a first for her.” – Rancho Santa Fe Review

“Between Boyfriends is a delicious slice of chick-lit! Snappy dialogue sets this story apart from the pack as it follows a young woman who, financially cut off by her parents when she fails to attend school, learns that life is more than her Amex card, and reunites with a mother who has endured her own brand of pain.” – Jan Moran, bestselling author

The current Average Amazon Review Rating is 4.2 stars {56 reviews}.

Click here to read more about and purchase Between Boyfriends for $0.99

THE FRUGAL FIND OF THE DAY: LOVER IN LAW, Jo Kessel {$0.99}

Sponsored Post

Jo Kessel‘s Frugal Find Under Nine:

Description of LOVER IN LAW:

Harbouring an unmentionable secret is not an obvious route to maternal bliss……….or is it?

Ali Kirk’s had a bad year. An ambitious London lawyer, her courtroom performances have started to slide and her obsession with having a baby is undermining her relationship with boyfriend Adam. Come January 1st she resolves that in the next twelve months her life has to turn around.

Life, however, is about to get worse. Busy juggling fertility tests with a high-profile criminal trial at the Old Bailey, Ali starts burning the midnight oil with powerfully handsome colleague Anthony de Klerk. On a night that she’s slipped on some sexy underwear to boost her flagging self-esteem, Ali and Anthony finally end up in bed together. And then she falls pregnant. Ali turns super sleuth on her own secret paternity suit – who is the father, Adam or Anthony?

En route to childbirth there are romances and rows, dalliances and denials, secrets and suspense. And the ultimate, uncomfortable realisation that only one thing will set Ali free: the truth.

Lover in Law is Jo Kessel’s first novel. Her second novel, Weak at the Knees, will be published this Summer. It’s a story about love, loss, friendship and broken promises which travels from London to the heart of the French Alps.

 

Accolades:

I LOVED this book. It was so good that the last bit kept me awake way past my bedtime – it was impossible to put down! The story was well written and the characters easy to identify with straight away. It was a great story with some interesting little twists and a realistic take on modern day life and all the expectations that go with that. A mixture of detective, love, intrigue and suspense! It’s the sort of book that makes you question your own morals and principals! What would I have done in Ali’s situation – would I have got into it in the first place??

This is not my usual reading fodder but I found myself looking forward to getting back to the story every time I had to put the book down. Interesting to read about life in chambers and very good storyline. I enjoyed this book immensely and find myself thinking back to it often now that I know what happens in the end. What a pickle that Ali got herself into !

The writing is sharp and to the point, the characters are very realistic and her description of life as a barrister very interesting. Jo kept you wondering who the father was right to the very end.

Jo Kessel is a great story teller and has written a real page turner. I was gripped from the start and could not put it down once started. Ali Klerk is a modern day woman and this book covers issues that women could easily relate to. I can’t wait for Jo Kessel to bring out her next book. Brilliant!

A real page turner, couldn’t put it down. Anthony is your fantasy come true.

It’s entertaining, and I like the author’s voice in this book. I always like to read something a little different than most books in this genre, and this was definitely different (in a good way, of course).


Amazon Reader Reviews:

LOVER IN LAW currently has a Amazon reader review rating of 4.6 stars, with 7 reviews! Read the reviews here!

 

LOVER IN LAW is available for purchase at:

Amazon Kindle for $0.99


Excerpt from LOVER IN LAW:

My pink panties are lying somewhere on Anthony’s bedroom floor, strewn with the rest of our clothes. They’d been lying at the back of the cupboard, unworn since that day I tried them on in France. Why I put them on this morning, of all mornings, is probably best understood by my subconscious. They were the last item of clothing to be removed and didn’t go unnoticed. They should have though, because they should never have come off, but it’s as much as I can do to concentrate on the here and now. On Anthony running his hands masterfully over my body, up and down the insides of my legs, tracing a teasing line from my collar-bone to my navel, dwelling lightly on my breasts as I arch to meet his touch, telling me they’re not too big, not too small, but perfect. I writhe underneath as he lies on top of me, softly kissing the sides of my neck, the front and then my mouth, more urgently. I dare a man to have a better body than his. His frame is tall, per fectly proportioned, broad yet lithe, naturally athletic with beautiful muscle definition. He is, quite simply, gorgeous. And the feel of his skin, oh his skin, on my hands and my body. It’s soft and smooth and I can’t get enough of it as my hands stroke up and down his back, from his shoulders to his sculpted buttocks, pulling him tighter and closer, yearning to have him inside. His eyes, big dark brown eyes with flecks of black and green, his thick, yielding, sexy mouth and the deep, rich, coffee-colour of him are intoxicating. In all my life I’ve only ever been with one man. I never knew I could feel so heated, this animal, this necessity, this pleasure and such ecstasy as he finally enters huge and deep and slowly and expertly, exquisitely brings us to climax.
————————-

“Don’t go,” he says, trying to catch my arm as I roll over to get up.
“I’ve got to,” I say.
It doesn’t feel right to stay the night, even if Adam is away. Anthony offered to drive me home, but I opted for a cab, which is on its way. I get dressed, item by item, as he lies there, watching.
“You have got the most beautiful body. You know that, sexy lady?”
He must be talking about somebody else.
“You’re not bad yourself.”
I turn my head. I shouldn’t be here, having this conversation. Accepting and paying compliments this way.
“What is it?” he asks.
He can’t see my face, but the way I’m holding my body, so very, very still, probably gives away how I’m feeling. Tense, confused, excited and yes, the first soupcon of guilt is seeping in. I’ve never done anything like this before, never even been tempted.
“I’m sorry,” he says. “I know you’re attached. I should have left well alone. It’s just there’s something about you,” he peters out.
I don’t want to ruin the beauty of what we’ve just shared and it’s not about attributing blame anyway.
“Don’t apologise,” I say. “It takes two to tango.”
“I know, but I want you to know that I don’t make a habit of this,” he carries on. “Seducing women who are attached isn’t really my style.”
The buzzer rings.
“Right then,” I say, picking my jacket up off the floor. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Anthony pulls the sheet round his waist, gets out of bed and follows me to the front door.
There’s an awkward moment. I’m not quite sure what to say. I turn the latch.
“Right then. See ya.”
“See ya,” he replies.
He bends down, kisses me on the mouth, I open the door, kiss my finger, place it to his lips and leave.
—————

 

LOVER IN LAW is available for purchase at:

Amazon Kindle for $0.99


Connect with Jo Kessel:

Website: www.jokessel.com

Twitter: @jo_kessel

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/jo.kessel.75

The River Valley Collection Boxed Set, Tess Thompson {$2.99}

In the first two novels of THE RIVER VALLEY COLLECTION, bestselling author Tess Thompson (formerly known as Tess Hardwick) assembles a colorful cast of endearing small-town characters and takes you on two journeys that will make you believe in the possibilities of life and renew your faith in love, friendship and the power of community – even in the face of unimaginable grief.A surprising mix of romance, humor, friendship, intrigue and gourmet food – THE RIVER VALLEY COLLECTION entertains while reminding you of life’s greatest gifts.

RIVERSONG – April 2011
When Lee Tucker’s husband commits suicide, he leaves her pregnant and one million dollars in debt to a loan shark. Out of options, she escapes to her deceased mother’s dilapidated house located in a small Oregon town that, like her, is financially ruined, heartbroken and in desperate need of a fresh start. Lee’s resilience leads to a plan for a destination restaurant named Riversong, to new chances for passion and love, and to danger from her dead husband’s debt as her business blooms. Lee Tucker is the kind of woman you find yourself rooting for long after the last page is read.

RIVERBEND – New release May 2013
“Tag. I found you.”

Just as Annie Bell’s reputation as one of the best chefs in the Pacific Northwest grows to new heights, she receives a threatening phone call from her abusive ex-boyfriend. Marco is out on parole and hungry for revenge, blaming her for his ten-year imprisonment. Fearing for her life and that of her young son, Annie reluctantly accepts help from Drake Webber, a cold and wealthy recluse hiding a dark history of his own. Supported by the gang of misfits from their restaurant Riversong, Annie forges ahead despite her growing terror that Marco will appear at any moment and make good on his threats.

Also includes an exclusive preview of RIVERSTAR, the third book in The River Valley Collection, coming September 2013!

What readers are saying:

5 star Amazon Review - I am a huge fan of Tess Thompson’s. Her books always leave me wanting more. I fell in love with the characters and the beautiful settings and most of all I fell in love with the message of hope. If you like suspense and intrigue with romance thrown into the mix you will love the River Valley Collection.

The current Average Amazon Review Rating is 5 stars {7 reviews}.

Click here to read more about and purchase The River Valley Collection Boxed Set for $2.99 

THE FRUGAL FIND OF THE DAY: The Color of Heaven, Julianne MacLean {$0.99}

Sponsored Post

Julianne MacLean‘s Frugal Find Under Nine:

Description of The Color of Heaven:

A deeply emotional tale about Sophie Duncan, a successful columnist whose world falls apart after her daughter’s unexpected illness and her husband’s shocking affair. When it seems nothing else could possibly go wrong, her car skids off an icy road and plunges into a frozen lake. There, in the cold dark depths of the water, a profound and extraordinary experience unlocks the surprising secrets from Sophie’s past, and teaches her what it means to truly live…and love.

Full of surprising twists and turns and a near-death experience that will leave you breathless, this story is not to be missed.

 

Accolades:

“A gripping, emotional tale you’ll want to read in one sitting.” – New York Times bestselling author, Julia London

“Brilliantly poignant mainstream tale.” – 4 ½ starred review, Romantic Times


Amazon Reader Reviews:

The Color of Heaven currently has a Amazon reader review rating of 4.3 stars, with 127 reviews! Read the reviews here!

 

The Color of Heaven is available for purchase at:

Amazon Kindle for $0.99


Excerpt from The Color of Heaven:

Not long after I crossed the border into New Hampshire, the temperature plummeted. If I had been out walking, I would have felt it on my cheeks. The chill would have entered my throat and lungs, but I was strapped tightly into the cozy confines of my vehicle with the heat blasting out of the dashboard vents, and was therefore shielded from the conditions outside. I will always wonder what brought that deer out onto the road just as the puddles from the melting snow turned to ice. I saw her out of the corner of my eye, galloping onto the pavement, and my whole body went rigid.

Wrenching the steering wheel left to avoid her, I hit the brakes at the same time, which was, of course, the worst thing I could have done.

The car whipped around 180 degrees, so I was now facing the oncoming headlights from the vehicles traveling behind me. My tires skimmed sideways across the pavement toward the shoulder of the road.

I remember everything in excruciating detail, the noise especially, as my car rolled five times down the steep embankment. Glass shattered and smashed. Steel collapsed. The world spun in dizzying circles in front of my eyes, so I shut them and gripped the steering wheel hard, bracing my body against the jarring impact as the roof collapsed over the passenger side and the windows blew out.

Down I went, tumbling and bouncing over the rocks like a stone skipping across water.

Then all at once, it was over.

There was only white noise in my ears, and the thunderous sound of my heartbeat.

I opened my eyes to find myself hanging upside down in my seatbelt, with the side of my head wedged up against the roof.

The engine was still running. Other sounds emerged. Music blasted from the radio – an old favorite song of mine from the 80’s, The Killing Time, which was ironic, but in that heart-stopping moment, I was not that reflective. All I could think of was getting out of there.

Panic hit me. Hard. I felt trapped, frantic to escape, and began to thrash about.

I groped for the red button on the seatbelt buckle, but my hands were shaking so badly, I couldn’t push it.

My breaths came faster and faster.

I cried out, but no one heard.

Then suddenly, out of nowhere, a whip cracked. The vehicle shuddered.

I froze and tried to see past the smashed windshield in front of me. Everything outside the car was pure white, covered in snow.

If only I knew where I was. If only I could see something beyond the broken glass.

But it didn’t matter what I could, or could not, see. I knew what was happening…

My car was sitting on its roof, resting on a frozen lake. The crack of the whip was the sound of the ice breaking.

Creak… Groan…

My SUV shifted and began to slowly tip sideways…


The Color of Heaven is available for purchase at:

Amazon Kindle for $0.99


Connect with Julianne MacLean:

Website: http://www.juliannemaclean.com

Twitter: http://twitter.com/#!/JulianneMacLean

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/JulianneMacLeanRomanceAuthor?ref=pb

THE FRUGAL FIND OF THE DAY: Seduced at Sunset (Pembroke Palace Series), Julianne MacLean {$4.99}

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Julianne MacLean‘s Frugal Find Under Nine:

Description of Seduced at Sunset (Pembroke Palace Series):

Sometimes the matchmaker finds a love of her own…

Lady Charlotte Sinclair has long given up her dreams of happily ever after. Years ago, a tragic accident claimed the life of her beloved fiancé, but somehow she found the strength to go on—as an independent woman with a secret double life that has earned her millions. Lately, however, she has begun to yearn for something more…

While setting out to play matchmaker for her mother, Lady Charlotte meets a rugged, handsome stranger who saves her from a thief in the street, but her heroic rescuer soon turns out to be more mysterious—and dangerously captivating—than any man she has ever known. Swept away by passion into a sizzling summer affair with a man who leads a double life of his own, she vows to live only for pleasure with no promises of tomorrow. But soon she must accept that one final night of ecstasy with an irresistible lover is never going to be enough…

 

Accolades:

“Julianne MacLean’s writing is smart, thrilling, and sizzles with sensuality.”—Elizabeth HoytPraise for Julianne MacLean and her bestselling romances…

“You can always count on Julianne MacLean to deliver ravishing romance that will keep you turning pages until the wee hours of the morning.”—Teresa Medeiros

“She is just an all-around, wonderful writer and I look forward to reading everything she writes.”—Romance Junkies

 

Amazon Reader Reviews:

Seduced at Sunset (Pembroke Palace Series) currently has a Amazon reader review rating of 4.7 stars, with 6 reviews! Read the reviews here!

 

Excerpt from Seduced at Sunset (Pembroke Palace Series):

Chapter Three

Drake Torrington was just exiting his townhouse when the sound of a lady’s voice from across the street drew his attention.
“I will not!” she screamed.
He spotted her as she was knocked into the fence by a scoundrel who made off with her purse.
Drake leaped down the steps, darted across the street, and reached the woman in a matter of seconds. “Are you hurt?” he asked, kneeling down to lay a hand on her shoulder, for she had collapsed.
She seemed dazed by the strike to the head, but then she frowned up at him with a pair of gleaming blue eyes that upset his balance, for he hadn’t seen a woman so beautiful in years––perhaps ever.
“I am fine, thank you, sir,” she said as she struggled to rise, “but that man has stolen my reticule. I want it back.”
He helped her to her feet. “You’re certain you are all right?”
“Yes.”
“Wait here, then.” He took off after the thief who had paused foolishly at the corner to rummage through the contents of the purse.
Drake sprinted toward him. The man looked up in surprise, then turned to make a run for it.
Reaching into his pocket, Drake grabbed his watch—a conveniently heavy piece of gold weaponry—and pitched it at the back of the man’s head.
The strike was spot on. The bandit tripped and tumbled forward to the ground. Disoriented, he rose up on his hands and knees and shook his head like a wet dog just as Drake came upon him, grabbed him by the lapels, and pulled him to his feet.
Drake shook him. “Hand it over, scoundrel, or I’ll knock your brains out.”
The thief refused to part with it. He threw a flimsy punch, which by some dumb stroke of luck connected with Drake’s jaw. The pain reverberated through his skull and sparked his blood into red-hot flames of savage aggression.
It had been years since Drake had enjoyed a good fight, and he wondered what happened to his old instincts, for there was once a time he would have anticipated and easily skirted such a watered-down blow. His pride bucked violently in response, and a heartbeat or two later, the thief was sprawled out, unconscious, on the pavement while Drake stood over him, feet braced apart, flexing his bloodied fist.
The noises of the street had somehow faded away. All he could hear was the heavy beating of his own heart, like a continuous rumble of thunder in his ears.
As his body rhythms returned to a more natural pace, reality came crashing back. He dropped to his knees to check the man’s pulse at his neck. He was still alive, thank God. Drake removed the reticule from the man’s possession, rose to his feet, and turned around to discover the lady with the disarming blue eyes stood only a few feet away, staring at him in shock.
* * *
Charlotte felt slightly dizzy and considerably alarmed as she locked gazes with the man who had retrieved her reticule. Naturally, she was grateful that he had come to her rescue, but after witnessing such a shocking display of violence, she felt no safer now than she had when the thief came upon her.
She had watched every heated second of the altercation, and had recognized the force behind the gentleman’s blow. Her breath had hitched in her throat when the thief was propelled backward through the air, as if he had been rammed by a raging bull at full gallop.
Glancing down at her rescuer’s big brawny fist and bloody knuckles, then down at the lifeless form on the ground behind him, she carefully asked, “Is he alive?” It would be a miracle if he were.
“Yes.” The gentleman’s voice was husky and low, barely more than a growl, and she was riveted to the spot. “I believe this is yours,” he added as he stepped forward and held out her reticule.
Charlotte stood utterly still as he drew near, for she felt rather breathless. From a distance she had known he was a tall man, but now she could sense—and feel—the looming power of his massive male brawn. His chest was thick, his shoulders wide, though his torso narrowed down to slender hips and undoubtedly strong legs.
“And this must be yours,” she replied, holding out his pocket watch, which she had picked up on the street a moment before. “It still appears to be working.”
As they made the exchange, Charlotte felt a shiver move through her. She wasn’t sure what caused it. She told herself there was nothing to fear from this man who had subdued her attacker. Judging by the way he was dressed in a fine black frock coat, silk top hat, and shiny black shoes, he was a gentleman.
Nevertheless, her head was spinning like a top, for there was very little about him beyond his clothing that seemed the least bit refined. He was coarse looking, like a laborer. Crude, even. And perhaps it was the way he moved––with a dangerous swagger––that seemed particularly threatening after what she had just witnessed.
Or perhaps it was his rugged facial features. His eyes were a pale shade of blue-gray, his nose was misshapen, as if it might have been broken a few times in the past, and there were scars on his cheekbones, and evidence of an old gash through one of his eyebrows. His upper lip was scarred as well.
He reminded her of a barbarian from another time. She could easily imagine it—this man, with his huge, scarred, muscled body, standing shirtless in battle, swinging a sword in one hand, wielding a dagger in the other, his eyes burning with bloodlust. He was perfect…
Stop it, Charlotte.
“That was quite a punch,” she said. “How is your hand?”
He flexed it a few times and looked down at his bloodied knuckles. His fingers were thick. So were his wrists. “It’s fine.”
“It doesn’t look fine to me,” she replied. “I daresay you did some damage, on both sides.” She looked up and down the quiet street. “Should we send for someone? A constable perhaps? Or a doctor?” The side of her head was throbbing. A bump was probably forming already.
“I was thinking the same thing,” he said in that husky, mesmerizing voice. “I live just there.” He pointed at his townhouse, a few doors down. “If you will accompany me, madam, I will send one of my servants to fetch assistance, and I promise this man will be arrested.”
“Is it wise to leave him here?” Charlotte asked. “What if he wakes up and runs off?”
“I will have him brought inside.”
Then his eyes narrowed with displeasure and he took a step closer.
For some reason, Charlotte quickly backed away, as if he had swung another punch, this time in her direction.
“You’re hurt,” he said, not appearing the least bit surprised that she had recoiled from him.
“No, I’m not,” she insisted.
He pointed to a drop of blood on her collar, and only then did she notice a wet sensation on her scalp. The dizziness she experienced earlier suddenly made sense, and when she slid her gloved fingers into her upswept hair and felt a gash just over her ear, her stomach turned over. “I’m bleeding.”
For the second time that day, the world turned white before her eyes, her knees buckled beneath her, and she began to sink toward the ground.
Though teetering on the muddled edges of consciousness, Charlotte was keenly aware of the man scooping her up into his arms—as if she weighed no more than a bolt of fabric—and carrying her toward his home.
Clinging tightly to the frame of his shoulders, she fought to stay awake and not faint in his arms. He was rock-solid beneath her hands, and his exotic spicy cologne smelled delectable. She warmed with appreciation and something else…
He mounted his front steps lightly, with no effort at all, as if they were both floating on air, and his incredible virility had a strange, appealing effect on her. Every fiber of her being hummed with awareness, energy, and excitement. A bolt of fear whizzed through her veins too…though perhaps it wasn’t fear, but something else entirely. Something exhilarating…something more heady, more dangerous. Indeed, even in her fantasies she had never projected anything quite like it.
“That’s it,” he whispered softly in her ear as he shifted her in his arms to rap the lion’s head door knocker. “Just hold on to me, darling. You’ll be fine. My housekeeper will tend to you. One shouldn’t ignore a head wound, you know. They can be serious.”
She suspected he was making conversation to keep her conscious, but there was little danger of nodding off, for she didn’t want to miss a single moment of this strangely thrilling ordeal.

Seduced at Sunset (Pembroke Palace Series) is available for purchase at:

Amazon Kindle for $4.99


Connect with Julianne MacLean:

Website: http://www.juliannemaclean.com

Twitter: http://twitter.com/JulianneMacLean

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/JulianneMacLeanRomanceAuthor?ref=pb

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