RIBBON OF LIGHT--BEGIN AGAIN SERIES!

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Claire Yezbak Fadden will be awarding a $15 Amazon or Barnes and Noble GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

Julie Rafferty’s life-long dream is within her grasp. But just as the toy company she founded verges on becoming a multi-million-dollar enterprise, her husband abandons their marriage.

Trevor had no choice but to walk away from Julie. How else could he show his wife that the business was her priority, not him and their three children? His drastic stunt backfires though, jeopardizing the family business and seemingly pushes Julie into the arms of a younger man.

Just when Julie and Trevor find their way back to each other, a ruthless competitor escalates a bogus lawsuit. Together they plot to reclaim control of the toy company, only to uncover a shattering betrayal that puts them in unimaginable danger.

Can they overcome their dreadful mistake and reclaim the passion, trust and commitment that once drew them together? Or will the greed of an evil man irreparably destroy everything they hold dear?

Read an excerpt

Julie gazed around the gymnasium, hoping for a sign of Trevor. During the timeouts, she spied Jason’s blue eyes scanning the stands, searching for his father, too. His broad shoulders and solid frame reminded her of a young Trevor. Her firstborn, a full head taller than most of his teammates, knocked hard on the door to manhood, seemingly overnight.

Trevor was staying away on purpose, she realized, her eyes misting over. His way of getting even because she was leaving on a business trip.

“Hey.” A familiar hand touched Julie’s shoulder, causing an electrifying charge to pulse through her body.

“I was wondering if you were going to show up,” she said with more bitterness than she meant.

She was relieved to see Trevor. She wanted to be near him, touch his face, hold hands like they used to. Instead, she made a snarky comment, driving another wedge between them. Seemed like inflicting hurt and pain became the goal of every conversation they shared recently. Somehow their loving, supportive relationship had turned spiteful and vindictive.

Julie couldn’t put her finger on when things changed, but she knew why. Trevor never understood her need to stand on her own two feet and take pride in something she created. He would never understand how her company gave her a sense of security he never could.

She moved her jacket to make room for him. Instead, he squeezed in between the girls. “Don’t start with me. I work too, you know. I got here as soon as I could.”

“Jason went on a scoring run. He has twelve points, eight from free throws.” Julie allowed her pride to slip out.

“Guess all that time you spent in the driveway teaching him how to draw a foul paid off.”

“Someone has got to be home with our kids,” Trevor said, his words dripping with judgment.

“Nicole, Emily. Go wash that sauce off your hands,” Julie ordered.

“I can just lick them clean,” Emily said.

Nicole stood. “Come on, Em. Let’s go. I think they’re going to fight again and Mom doesn’t want us to hear.”

“We’re not fighting,” Trevor said. “Just go wash your hands like your mother asked.”

She watched the girls head toward the bathrooms.

“They’re right, you know. All we do anymore is argue.”

“Not true. You’re not at home long enough. I can’t believe you have another week-long business trip.”

“I have a commitment to the company and the people who work there,” Julie said in hushed tones. “If you can’t or won’t accept that, then there is nothing I can do to make things better between us.”

About the Author

When she’s not playing with her granddaughters, Pennsylvania native Claire Yezbak Fadden is writing contemporary women’s fiction. Her books feature strong women who overcome life’s challenges, always putting their families first.

There's a special spot in Claire's heart for carousel horses – quite possibly the result of watching “Mary Poppins” 13 times as a young girl. She loves butterflies, ladybugs and confetti! Just ask anyone who's received a birthday card from her.

The mother of three lives in Orange County, California with her husband, Nick and three spoiled dogs.

Claire’s work as an award-winning journalist, humor columnist and editor has appeared in more than 100 publications across the United States, Canada and Australia. Ribbon of Light is the third novel in her Begin Again series. 



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https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/ribbon-of-light/id1434756246?mt=11




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PAR FOR CINDERELLA

Par for Cinderella

The Cinderella Romances Book 3

by
Petie McCarty

Genre: Contemporary Romance 

Billionaire Aidan Cross longs to escape his life of celebrity and become a
regular guy, if only for a brief time. His chance comes when his
yacht breaks down near quaint Cypress Key, Florida—the site of his
planned five-star golf resort. The golf resort no one in town wants.

Casey Stuart has given up her dream of escaping to the big city. She
refuses to desert her uncle, even when he hires the new stranger in
town to replace her at their golf course. Casey vows to steer clear
of the stranger called Aidan and the danger their inescapable
chemistry provokes. Aidan’s stay is temporary, and falling for him
promises only heartbreak.

When Casey discovers Cypress Key’s mayor is making underhanded business
deals, she ends up on the wrong side of the powerful autocrat. Aidan
steps in to rescue her, but secrets from his past threaten to bogey
their newfound relationship.

PAR FOR CINDERELLA Excerpt:

The tour boat docked at the actual Cypress Key—safely and comfortably with no rocking or bumping, thanks to him—for a self-guided walking tour of the remnants of the original seventeenth-century settlement. According to Casey, original foundations could be seen as well as the settlement’s graveyard. The small island key had supported a small but thriving population until typhoid fever decimated the entire group of residents.

Aidan would have liked to see the island, but Casey informed him he had to stay on board should any guests return for a soft drink or a snack. She then pulled out a satchel from under the bow and did tour company paperwork until their guests returned.And ignored him completely.

He disliked the ignoring even more than the bossing, so he flirted with the two appreciative vacationers on the return trip just for spite. And as payback, Casey had him stand at the exit gangway at the end of the tour and hold the tips jar, feeling mortified when guests stuffed ones or a rare five-dollar bill in it and patted his arm or his hand. One fiftyish woman patted his butt, and he swore he heard Casey snort from her seat at the front of the boat.

To even things out, he allowed the two flirters to kiss his cheek on their way down the gangway, and he smirked at Casey after each girl tucked a ten in the jar.

He busied himself putting the boat back the way they’d found it that morning: checking the gas gauge, returning the drinks and snacks to their respective waterproof compartments in the boat. Aidan emptied the cooler’s ice over the side and returned the container to the large storage compartment at the stern. All without any comment from Casey.

At last finished with his menial tasks, Aidan waited for her at the gangway, so she could lock the gate in the boat railing for departure. When she reached his side, he handed her the stupid tip jar, gritting his teeth again at the memory of the retirement-aged fellow who’d said, “You like doing this for a living?”

Aidan made a mental note to double all his tips in the future wherever they may be.

Casey pushed the jar back at him. “No, these are yours. You earned them, tour captain.”

Which would have been nice if she hadn’t smirked.

Smirked! Talk about adding insult to injury.

He hated when she smirked at him. No, that wasn’t true. She made him want to kiss every smirk right off her beautiful face. Just because he could.

“Put it on my bail tab,” he snapped and stepped onto the gangway.

“Suit yourself,” she said cheerfully, then pocketed the cash from the jar and locked the gate. Ten steps down the dock, she stopped. “I forgot my satchel. Would you get it for me?”

He checked for a smirk—didn’t see one—and trudged back to the boat, then vaulted over the rail. 

When he returned the satchel to her, their hands brushed and her gaze shot to his face.

There had been a definite spark at their touch. He damn sure felt the sizzle. He stared into her eyes, wide green-emerald pools of innocence now. No devilment, not a smirk in sight.

“Thank you,” she whispered, her gaze still riveted to his.

Like being tugged with unseen hands, he eased toward the emerald eyes holding the lure or promise of something he suddenly needed. Desperately. Unlike the wild, needy connection on the runabout, this kiss started as a light brush of lips. He tested the waters. Tasted the promise of pleasure before settling more firmly to tease her lips apart with the tip of his tongue. Her eyes aroused him; her scent aroused him; and God knew her sweet taste aroused him.

He shouldn’t kiss her again. He knew it. That way lay disaster.

His control slipped.

And then he was slipping.

As Casey shoved him back.

Into the marina.

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Petie McCarty spent a large part of her career working at Walt Disney World -- "The
Most Magical Place on Earth" -- where she enjoyed working in the
land of fairy tales by day and creating her own romantic fairy tales
by night, including her new series, The Cinderella Romances. She
eventually said good-bye to her "day" job to write her
stories full-time. These days Petie spends her time writing sequels
to her regency time travel series, Lords in Time, and her
cozy-mystery-with-a-dash-of-romantic-suspense series, the Mystery
Angel Romances.

Petie shares her home on the Cumberland Plateau in Tennessee with her
horticulturist husband, a spoiled-rotten English Springer spaniel
addicted to pimento-stuffed green olives, and a noisy Nanday conure
named Sassy who made a cameo appearance in Angel to the Rescue.

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JUST A NAME

JUST A NAME by Becky Monson






Holly has a plan for everything. But she never could have planned for this.

If there’s one thing Holly Murphy loves, it’s a solid plan. She has her entire life figured out—or so she thinks. But when life pulls the rug out from under her, she’s left to deal with a canceled wedding—hers, to be precise. And the promotion she’s worked toward for years is now in jeopardy because the team she supervises doesn’t like her management style.

Thinking that Holly is too tightly wound and needs a break from everything, her boss demands she take a vacation. But how can she take a vacation when her promotion is on the line? Trying to help out, her best friend, Quinn, suggests she still go on her honeymoon and conduct a nationwide search to find a man with the same name as her ex-fiancé to use his plane ticket. Leaving Holly to wonder if she’s the only sane person left on the planet.

Yet when her boss gets wind of the idea and loves it, Holly finds herself in a corner she can’t get out of. And when handsome Nate Jones from Newport Beach gets picked to go with her, she wonders if this whole thing won’t be so bad after all.

Can Holly learn to let go? Or will this crazy adventure send her running right back to her safety net?

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Read for FREE with Kindle Unlimited

Praise for Just A Name

“Just a Name is a delicious escape! I devoured every character, every moment, and every quirk and couldn’t get enough. This book is Becky Monson at her finest!” -Author Whitney Dineen

“Becky Monson has outdone herself with Just a Name. It’s FANTASTIC! I’m still swooning.” -Author Jennifer Peel

“Fans of romantic comedies should grab a copy of Just a Name; it has the perfect balance between sweet and sassy.”-Readers’ Favorite

"Full of fun, swoon, and humor, all topped with unexpected twists. I thoroughly enjoyed my time in these pages!" -Katie's Clean Book Collection

"I loved it. Becky Monson is so good at writing humor into her books. Sarcasm and wit reign supreme right along with a slow growing romance." - Aimee Brown from Getting Your Read On





Excerpt of JUST A NAME 

I hate today.

Which doesn’t bode well, since it’s only eight thirty in the morning.

This is par for the course with my life right now, since the past three weeks haven’t particularly been my favorite either. Before that—which feels like ages ago—I was feeling like I was on the right path. Like everything I had planned for myself was happening. And I actually remember thinking, “Life can’t get any better.” Clearly, I jinxed myself.

Because my life is not on track. Not even close.

Lately, every morning I wake up with hopes that this will be the day when things will look up for me. The day my life will take a turn for the better and I’ll get myself back on track. Apparently, today is not that day.

Right now, I’m sitting in an air-conditioned office, holding a piece of paper in my hands, staring at the words in front of me and trying to make sense of it all. The top of the paper, in bold lettering, says, “CT Anderson Bank,” and underneath it, “Holly Murphy—Supervisor Assessment.”

Under that are a whole bunch of words I can’t believe I’m reading. Words like “too controlling” and “micromanaging” and “not a team player.” It’s all there, in Times New Roman, eleven-point type. Coincidentally, these are some of the words Nathan—my ex-fiancé—used when he called off our wedding nearly three weeks ago. He even used the words “not a team player”—whatever that’s supposed to mean. And this was all only a little over two months before we were to marry.

Way to kick me when I’m down, Life.






Author Becky Monson

By day, Becky Monson is a mother to three young children, and a wife. By night, she escapes with reading books and writing. An award-winning author, Becky uses humor and true-life experiences to bring her characters to life. She loves all things chick-lit (movies, books, etc.), and wishes she had a British accent. She has recently given up Diet Coke for the fiftieth time and is hopeful this time will last... but it probably won't.



Giveaway Details

$50 Amazon Gift Code or $50 in Paypal Cash

Ends 11/27/18

Open only to those who can legally enter, receive and use money sent via Paypal or gift codes via Amazon.com. Winning Entry will be verified prior to prize being awarded. No purchase necessary. You must be 18 or older to enter or have your parent enter for you. The winner will be chosen by rafflecopter and announced here as well as emailed and will have 48 hours to respond or a new winner will be chosen. This giveaway is in no way associated with Facebook, Twitter, Rafflecopter or any other entity unless otherwise specified. The number of eligible entries received determines the odds of winning. This giveaway was organized by Kathy from I Am A Reader and sponsored by the author. VOID WHERE PROHIBITED BY LAW.

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NO ONE LIKE YOU -- FIRST IN A NEW SERIES!

Don't miss the Rafflecopter giveaway at the end of the post!

No One Like You

A Chateau Jolie Romance #1

by
Heather McGovern

Genre: Contemporary Romance 

Pub
Date: 10/30/2018

In
the quaint mountain town of Windamere, North Carolina, the three
Sargent sisters are determined to make their hotel and winery,
Chateau Jolie, a success. And one by one, they’re finding that
nothing pairs better with new beginnings than unexpected love…

The downside of living
in a charming small town is that it’s impossible for Brooke Sargent
to avoid anyone. Especially someone as big, handsome, and friendly as
Trevor Bradley. At his brother’s wedding, they flirted and
danced…before Brooke recalled that she’s not ready to trust any
man after her divorce, let alone one who’s the competition. Her
family’s struggling chateau is planning to host the local senior
prom—without the Bradley family’s renowned Honeywilde Inn
muscling in and stealing the glory.

Trevor has thought of
no one else since the night he and Brooke connected. Even though she
shot him down—hard—he’s seen the warmth beneath her guarded
facade. Working together, they could give the high school students a
spectacular prom. Navigating the rough terrain of Brooke’s
business, while proving himself to his own siblings, won’t be easy.
But Trevor loves a challenge—especially one that could win him the
woman he can’t stop wanting . . .

READ AN EXCERPT

Chapter 1

Brooke clung to her menu like it was a full skirt on a windy day. “Coffee,” she said to the Honeywilde waiter.

Her hands cramped, palms sweaty, and the pinching start of a headache worked its way up both temples.

Meeting with Roark Bradley shouldn’t set her on edge like this. Roark was professional and pleasant. All of the Bradleys were nice people.

Trevor Bradley in particular.

Nice looking too, though that was beside the point.

Since Devlin’s wedding in August, she’d seen Trevor only in passing. In town, she’d see him maybe shopping or walking down the sidewalk, but the glimpses were enough to confirm what she already knew—he was still as wickedly handsome as ever.

Her muscles tensed, ready to jump out of her skin, but her nerves couldn’t be because of Trevor.

“I’m back. Sorry to keep you waiting.” Roark took the seat across from her and motioned for coffee.

“Anyway, as I was saying, the high school needs Chateau Jolie’s help with their prom.”

Ding, ding, ding.

The prom.

That would be the source of her anxiety.

Didn’t matter that she and her sisters had been running Chateau Jolie for almost a year, the prospect of being the location for the school’s emergency prom had her more wound up than a set of novelty chattering teeth. Brooke unclenched her jaw. “I believe you were about to ask if we could host the prom at Jolie.” Both a blessing and a curse that couldn’t come at a more inopportune time.

“Yes. The venue they were going to use went out of business last week. With no notification to the school, their prom is just…gone.”

“Gone?”

“No place to have it, no backup plans. Nothing.”

“Those poor kids.”

Taking this project on wasn’t ideal, but how could she say no to a bunch of sad teenagers who would get all dressed up and have no place to go?

Roark sipped his coffee and shook his head. “They lost their money too. That event place in Newton went bankrupt. All of the juniors and seniors had bought tickets, so that’s their hard-earned cash gone. Which means they’ve got no budget.”

Her stomach dropped. “Well, that—” Sucks. “That’s awful.”

And she couldn’t help them without a budget. Chateau Jolie certainly didn’t have the spare cash to fork over.

“The assistant principal came to me yesterday asking—actually, pleading is more accurate—to use Honeywilde. But we’re booked solid for the whole season.”

Of course they were.

Honeywilde was always booked. This season, next season. Every season two years from now. Honeywilde’s success was one of the reasons for Jolie’s lackluster couple of years.

But she wasn’t about to tell Roark Bradley that.

“Then Sophie thought of Chateau Jolie. Thank goodness your ballroom is available.”

She pasted on a smile. “Yes. Thank goodness.”

“That is, if you can host the event. It’s in two and a half weeks.”

Her eyes almost popped out of her skull.

“I know, I know. It’s not much time, but we’re still going to help,” he rushed to add. “You wouldn’t be doing this alone. I’m ready to offer up a donation for food, décor, and other expenses. And some added manpower for the event itself, since Jolie is…well, we have a larger staff here.”

He was understating to be polite. Honeywilde had the money and people to spare. Chateau Jolie did not.

The throb in her skull got a little bit worse. “I think…”

She didn’t have the luxury of thinking. Chateau Jolie needed to catch a break, especially now that she had to shell out thousands of dollars to keep from losing part of Jolie to an evil a-hole of a man.

Not only was hosting the school’s prom the right thing to do, but a community event and charity might give the hotel the kind of promotion and PR it needed to spark off their slumping reservation rates and make some much needed money.

“We wouldn’t throw all of this on you to deal with alone.” Roark leaned forward, his coffee mug cradled between his hands. “We plan to help out as much as we can. But what the school needs most is a location.”

Brooke flexed her fingers to get some blood into them. Chateau Jolie could easily be the location, but they didn’t have Honeywilde’s financial resources to fund a party.

She wasn’t about to tell Roark Bradley that either.

“We’d love for the school to use our ballroom,” she said instead.

“Great!”

But she couldn’t only offer up a location.

If all she provided was a room, then yet again, Honeywilde would be the hero of the day. They’d swoop in, save the town, and hog all the glory. Again. Chateau Jolie would be the little stepsister who got dragged along to the dance.

Her family’s business couldn’t afford to be the stepsister anymore.

Brooke stiffened her spine. “We’d want to do more than provide a location though. We have resources of our own.” Pitifully few, but potay-toe, po-tah-toe. “If the prom is at our hotel, I’d prefer to be the one in charge of coordinating with the prom’s committee chair.”

Roark nodded. “Absolutely. I agree.”

Proms weren’t in her wheelhouse, but she knew enough about parties to handle one for teenagers.

Roark took another sip of his coffee, looking proud as a peacock. “That works out perfectly for us too. With the Blueberry Festival coming up, and peak season, we don’t need to commit to managing more than we can handle.”

Peak season. Must be nice.

She shook off the resentment to concentrate on the possibilities. This prom could be the very thing Jolie needed, and if she could run the show with a Honeywilde income, even better.

She could make this the goodwill event of the year, get on every social media platform, and prove her family’s hotel was every bit as charitable and wonderful as Honeywilde, and she might be able to redeem herself. No, she would redeem herself.

“Hey.” A deep voice interrupted her pep talk.

Brooke looked up, into striking blue eyes and dimples that ought to be outlawed.

Trevor Bradley.

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Heather McGovern writes contemporary romance in swoony, southern
settings. While her love of travel and adventure takes her far, there
is no place quite like home. She lives in South Carolina with her
husband and son, and a collection of Legos that's threatening to take
over the house. When she isn't writing, she's working out, or binging
on books and Netflix.

She is a member of Romance Writers of America, as well as Carolina Romance Writers, 
and she's represented by Nicole Resciniti of The Seymour Agency.

Connect with Heather on her website, Facebook, Twitter, or her group blog. She'd love to hear
to from you!

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YEAST OF EDEN, A PANCAKE HOUSE MYSTERY

Don't miss the Rafflecopter giveaway at the end of the post!

Yeast of Eden

A Pancake House Mystery
#4

by

Sarah Fox

Genre: Cozy Mystery

Pub
Date: 10/30/2018 

In USA
Today bestselling
author Sarah Fox’s delicious new Pancake House Mystery, it’s up
to Marley McKinney to discover the waffle truth behind a rival’s
murder . . .

Winter has come to Wildwood Cove, and riding in on the chill is Wally Fowler.
Although he’s been away for years, establishing his reputation as
the self-proclaimed Waffle King, the wealthy blowhard has returned to
the coastal community to make money, not friends—by pitting his hot
and trendy Waffle Kingdom against Marley McKinney’s cozy pancake
house, The Flip Side. Wally doesn’t see anything wrong in a little
healthy competition, until he’s murdered in his own state-of-the art kitchen.

Marley isn’t surprised when the authorities sniff around The Flip Side for a
motive, but it’s her best friend Lisa who gets grilled, given her
sticky history with the victim. When a second murder rocks the town,
it makes it harder than ever for Marley to clear Lisa’s name.
Marley’s afraid that she’s next in line to die—and the way
things are looking, the odds of surviving her investigation could be stacked against her.

READ AN EXCERPT

Chapter 1

My car’s headlights cut through the darkness, illuminating the driving rain. The windshield wipers swished back and forth in a rapid rhythm as I carefully navigated my way along the deserted streets of Wildwood Cove. Normally I preferred to walk to work each morning, trekking along the beach so I could listen to the crashing waves and smell the salty air. Lately, however, I’d been making more use of my blue hatchback. Over the past several days the weather had been less than inviting, drizzling with rain if not outright pouring, and chilly enough that the occasional glob of slush splattered against my windshield along with the pelting raindrops.

The rain was supposed to let up in the next day or so, according to the weather forecast, so I hoped it wouldn’t be much longer before I could get back to enjoying my early morning walks along the shoreline. For the moment, though, I was grateful for the warmth and shelter of my car.

When I turned into the small parking lot behind The Flip Side pancake house, I pulled up next to the only other car in the lot—a baby-blue classic Volkswagen bug belonging to The Flip Side’s chef, Ivan Kaminski. He arrived even earlier than I did each morning, as did his assistant, Tommy Park. It was barely six o’clock, but I knew the two of them would have been working for a good while already.

I shut off my car’s engine and grabbed my tote bag off the passenger seat, steeling myself for the upcoming dash through the pouring rain to the back door of the pancake house. As soon as I climbed out into the rain, I slammed the car door, ducked my head, and made a beeline for the slim bit of shelter provided by the recessed doorway.

Despite having spent mere seconds exposed to the elements, I had damp hair and droplets of water running down my face. I wiped them away with my sleeve and jiggled my ring of keys until I found the right one. As I put the key into the door, I caught sight of something white from the corner of my eye. A flyer lay plastered against the pavement, waterlogged and with a muddy footprint stamped across it.

I darted out of the shelter of the doorway and peeled the soggy paper off the ground. When I was once again out of the rain, I peered at the flyer, the exterior light above my head providing me with enough illumination to read by.

When I took in the bold black words printed across the saturated paper, my former good mood did a nosedive. I’d seen the flyer before. I’d seen several them, in fact, plastered all over town on utility poles, signposts, and community notice boards. I’d also received one in the mail. That one had gone straight into the recycling bin. This one I crumpled up in my hand as I unlocked the door, the words Wally’s Waffle Kingdom disappearing from sight as the paper scrunched up into a soggy ball.

Once inside, I unlocked the door to my office and tossed the scrunched flyer into the wastepaper basket. If I never saw another one, I’d be happy, although I knew the advertisement wasn’t the real problem. That was the Waffle Kingdom itself. The Flip Side had become a fixture in the small seaside town of Wildwood Cove, with many faithful customers who returned again and again to enjoy Ivan’s scrumptious breakfast creations. There were other restaurants and cafés around town, but none of them specialized in breakfast foods like The Flip Side did.

Up until a couple of weeks ago, I’d never really worried about competition. Then Wally Fowler had moved to town—moved back to town actually, since he’d grown up here—and my mind had remained unsettled ever since. I wasn’t about to roll over and give up on the pancake house just because of some competition, but I couldn’t keep my niggling concern at bay.

If the Waffle Kingdom’s fare was as good as the flyer proclaimed (the best waffles EVER!) it wasn’t unrealistic to think that The Flip Side would lose some of its business to the new establishment. In the summertime, when tourists flocked to the small town, that might not be such a problem. There would probably be enough business for both restaurants during those weeks. But during the rest of the year? That could be a definite issue.

I’d been hoping to give each of my three full-time employees a raise in the near future. Now I was keeping that plan to myself, unsure if I’d be able to follow through. I’d have to wait and see what happened once the waffle house opened. As Wally and his flyers had been announcing to the whole town for several days, the grand opening of the Waffle Kingdom would take place next week.

It would take time to know the full extent of the effect on The Flip Side, so I was determined to carry on as usual. I just wished I could get rid of that ever-present worry lingering at the back of my mind.

With the wet flyer in the trash and my jacket hung on the coat stand, I ran a hand through my damp curls and made my way into the dining area. I flipped on the lights, and immediately some of the tension that had crept into my shoulders fizzled away. There was something so comforting about the cozy pancake house. Like the beach and the charming town, The Flip Side had easily worked its way into my heart, becoming a second home away from my blue-and-white beachfront Victorian.

Smiling, I glanced out the large front windows, seeing nothing but inky darkness and rivulets of water running down the panes.

Well, almost nothing else.

I walked quickly across the room to the front door, bone-chilling damp air hitting me as soon as I pushed it open. Staying beneath the awning so I wouldn’t get soaked, I approached the two white rectangles taped to one of the windows, spaced a couple of feet apart. When I got close enough

to recognize them as two more Waffle Kingdom flyers, I let out a growl of annoyance.

Ripping the flyers off the glass, I stormed back into the pancake house.

“Of all the nerve!”

Twenty-one-year-old Tommy Park poked his head out the pass-through window to the kitchen. “What’s up?” he asked.

I waved the crumpled flyers. “Wally the Waffle King strikes again.”

The kitchen door swung open and Ivan appeared. Tommy ducked away from the window and came through the door a second later.

“These were taped to the front window,” I said, waving the flyers again. Ivan grabbed one and glowered at the piece of paper. While an intimidating scowl was the chef’s typical expression, this one was far darker than usual.

“He’s rubbing your nose in it,” he declared, crumpling the flyer as his large hand closed into a fist.

Tommy took the other flyer from me. “Totally not cool.”

“It’s one thing to open up a waffle house that will compete directly with us,” I said, “but it’s hitting a new low by plastering the ads all over the front of this place.”

“He’s trying to get under your skin.” Ivan tossed the crumpled flyer toward the wastepaper basket, making a perfect shot. “But why? Does he really think annoying us will get us to close up shop so all our business goes his way?”

“Not going to happen,” Tommy said.

“Definitely not,” I agreed. “But why else try to aggravate us?”

“Probably for fun,” Ivan said. “Some people enjoy riling others up.”

“That’s true.” I’d learned that firsthand several months back when a bitter and vengeful woman had tried to make my life miserable.

“And I hear Wally Fowler’s a slimeball,” Tommy said. “I’m not sure anyone in town actually likes him.”

Ivan nodded his agreement. “Wildwood Cove would be better off without him.”

If enough people believed that, maybe I had nothing to worry about. The townsfolk weren’t likely to give the self-proclaimed Waffle King their business if they despised him.

“I guess it’s best to ignore him and focus on keeping our customers happy, like we always do,” I decided.

“Sounds like a plan.” With a flick of his wrist, Tommy sent the second flyer arcing into the trash can.

He returned to the kitchen and Ivan followed after him, his scowl as dark as ever. Was he more worried about the new waffle house than he was letting on? With his bulging muscles, numerous tattoos, and dark, intense eyes, Ivan wasn’t one to be easily fazed. But something in his face led me to believe he was taking the potential problem posed by Wally and his waffle house very seriously.

My worries tried to resurface, but I forced them back down, focusing on starting a fire in the stone fireplace to keep myself busy. The Flip Side would be fine, I told myself. It was a well-established restaurant, with a solid and loyal customer base that loved Ivan’s cooking and the cozy atmosphere.

Surely it would take more than Wally the Waffle King to destroy what we had here. After all, how much damage could one man cause?

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Sarah Fox is the author of the Music Lover's Mystery series and the USA
Today bestselling Pancake House Mystery series. When not writing
novels or working as a legal writer, she can often be found reading
her way through a stack of books or spending time outdoors with her
English Springer Spaniel. Sarah lives in British Columbia and is a
member of Crime Writers of Canada.

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THE VISCOUNT'S PROMISE

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The Viscount's Promise

The Twice Shy Series
Book 2

by Christina Britton

Genre: Historical
Romance

Pub
Date: 10/30/18

Lady Emily Masters has harbored a secret infatuation for the dashing
Malcolm Arborn, Viscount Morley since a childhood accident claimed
the life of her twin brother and left her own face scarred. But when
fate brings them together again for her brother’s wedding, she is
dismayed to find instead of the brave gentleman who sheltered her
after the tragedy, a surly rogue quick to quip and slow to trust.

To the cosmopolitan and haughty Malcolm, few engagements could possibly
be more punishing than attending his friend’s country wedding―until
the groom requests he watch over his timid sister during the weeks
leading up to the ceremony. Fearful of her scar making her the center
of attention to the visiting lords and ladies, Emily proves to be a
difficult charge for the irascible bachelor.

Her diffidence an insult to his sensibilities, he finds a new purpose
within his role: to bring out the bold woman within. But how can such
a gentle creature as Emily abide his own coarseness? At odds with
their natures, will these two willful souls be able to look beyond
their past hurt to build a promising tomorrow?

READ AN EXCERPT

“I would love to hear you play if you have the time for one more song.”

She shot him a quick, disbelieving glance, and immediately regretted it. They were close, closer even than they had been during the dance. Her mouth went dry. “You want me to play for you?”

“Yes, please.”

“You have heard me play before,” she reminded him.

“Yes, but that was different.”

She frowned. “How?”

He looked flummoxed for a moment, as if he hadn’t expected the question and didn’t have the least idea how to answer it. Finally, he shrugged. “There was something more to your playing this morning. I cannot explain it.”

His eyes were fervent and wondering as he looked down at her. Had he truly heard the emotions she had poured into her music, the bit of her soul she had bared in her playing? It touched her deeply that he sensed it, for he had been the one to inspire it in the first place. Something warm unfurled in her chest. In that moment she would not have denied him anything. “Very well,” she whispered.

On shaky legs she returned to her place at the pianoforte. He sat halfway across the length of the room, as if he were trying to maintain some space between them. And yet Emily could feel his gaze on her like a physical touch. Taking a deep breath, she laid her fingers on the keys and, closing her eyes, began to play. She could have chosen a piece of incredible difficulty to lay every bit of her skill out in front of him. Instead her fingers glided over the keys, finding and weaving through a soft, plaintive melody. It was slow and deep, reflecting her heart and what Malcolm was pulling from it.

For he was dragging emotions from her she never thought to feel.

Every strike of the hammers on the strings vibrated through her, from her fingertips to her very core.

Tears pressed against her closed lids. Did he hear it? Could he feel what she was putting into the song? All too soon the last note died away. The echo of it was slower to leave her, flowing through her body, swirling about her heart. She was almost bereft when that, too, died away. But with the loss of it, she became aware of something else missing as well.

There was not a sound in the room. Had he left? With great will she opened her eyes, quickly blinking away her tears, and looked in the direction he had been sitting. He was there still, his dark eyes intent on her, his expression rapt. That look was like a spark to dry tinder; suddenly it was as if the music had started up again, the magic of it touching her very soul.

“Thank you,” he said, his voice hushed and fervent. He smiled, and a bit of the scar that had grown, protective and tough, around Emily’s heart fell away. As she watched him go, she clutched her arms about her waist, more frightened than she had ever been.

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With Love in Sight

The Twice Shy Series
Book 1

From
Romance Writers of America’s® 2017 Golden Heart® winner comes a
story of passion that is much more than meets the eye.

An aging spinster at twenty-six, all Imogen Duncan sees ahead of her is
a life of servitude to her overbearing mother. Her London Season has
passed and her desperate shyness and reserved demeanor have destroyed
any chance for a match. As her younger sister Mariah begins her own
Season with a selection of suitors, Imogen believes her chances for
excitement are well and truly lost…Until a case of mistaken
identity and an accidental kiss brings her adventure.

Burying his guilt from a decade-old tragedy beneath a life of debauchery,
Caleb Masters, Marquess of Willbridge, is content enough to meet
willing widows in dark gardens to numb the pain. But he is wholly
unprepared when an innocent miss stumbles into him, turning his
superficial world on its head.

Drawn to the rogue that mistakenly stole her first kiss, Imogen finds not a
suitor, but a friend. Free to be herself for the first time, she
begins to see a new beauty in the world around her…and see a
strength in herself she never knew she possessed. But when friendship
turns to passion, Imogen will accept nothing less than Caleb’s
heart. Can a healing of the past lead to the promise of a future together?

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Christina Britton developed a passion for writing romance novels shortly
after buying her first at the tender age of thirteen. Though for
several years she turned to art and put brush instead of pen to
paper, she has returned to her first love and is now writing full
time. She spends her days dreaming of corsets and cravats and
noblemen with tortured souls.

She lives with her husband and two children in the San Francisco Bay
Area. A member of Romance Writers of America, she also belongs to
her local chapter, Silicon Valley RWA, and is a 2017 RWA® Golden
Heart® winner. Her debut novel, With Love in Sight, was released by
Diversion Books in early 2018.

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