Friday, September 25, 2020
Wednesday, September 23, 2020
Historical Romance, Regency Romance
Release Date: September 23, 2020
Below stairs is where the romance begins..
As the most distinguished watchmaker in England, Christian Bainbridge believes in accurate timepieces, not love. He secretly offered his heart years ago, and he’s never gotten it back. When Raine Mowbray stumbles into his life again, Christian realizes the woman he’s worshiped from afar is still the woman he desires above all others.
Raine Mowbray needs solitude and employment, not love. A housemaid forced to flee a loathsome earl’s grasp, the last thing she’s seeking is a man’s amorous attention. When she finds herself unexpectantly paired with a gorgeous watchmaker in need of an assistant, she’s unnerved by his wit, kindness—and clandestine devotion to her.
If you like spirited heroines who fight falling in love and charmingly arrogant heroes who think they know best, then this is the book for you! Snuggle up with Tempting the Scoundrel, a steamy second chance, love-at-first-sight Regency Romance!
This is a Downton Abbey-ish novella at 98 pages and 25K words!!
About the Author
Award-winning author Tracy Sumner's storytelling career began when she picked up a historical romance on a college beach trip, and she fondly blames LaVyrle Spencer for her obsession with the genre. She's a recipient of the National Reader's Choice, and her novels have been translated into Dutch, German, Portuguese and Spanish. She lived in New York, Paris and Taipei before finding her way back to the Lowcountry of South Carolina.
When not writing sizzling love stories about feisty heroines and their temperamental-but-entirely-lovable heroes, Tracy enjoys reading, snowboarding, college football (Go Tigers!), yoga, and travel. She loves to hear from romance readers!
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Monday, September 21, 2020
Friday, September 18, 2020
Woo Hoo! I’m celebrating the release of CHARLOTTE’S CHALLENGE. I love this story. Charlotte Dunn is a spunky woman. Bret Craig starts as a bit selfish but soon learns his lesson. Beta readers have been enthusiastic about this book.
The universal buy link is https://mybook.to/Bret
CHARLOTTE’S CHALLENGE is available in ebook, print, and is enrolled in Kindle Unlimited. Widowed Charlotte Dunn struggles to save her ranch from a vicious neighbor.
I not only love Charlotte and Bret but also a secondary character, Moses “Moose” Tatum. I visualize him as a bit like Sam Elliott. One of the beta readers disagreed and suggested he was more like Festus on Gunsmoke. Let me know what you think.
Here’s the blurb for CHARLOTTE’S CHALLENGE:
A widow determined to save the family ranch…
A man who inherited cursed pirate gold…
They must combine efforts to defeat an evil man.
Bret Craig is a descendant of one of the crew of The Golden Fleece. Over a century ago the merchant ship had prevailed against pirates carrying a treasure of cursed Inca gold. The legacy promised retribution against anyone who misused the treasure. Bret has heard the story all his life but believes the tale is a myth and that he’s in no danger if he spends the money selfishly. Ignoring his sister’s warning, he sets out for a grand adventure heading west.
Widowed former mail-order bride Charlotte Dunn is in danger of losing the family ranch. She lost her husband to a rustler’s bullet when half the cattle were stolen and both ranch hands were killed. When she and her stepsons rescue a man who fell from his horse, they learn the man has amnesia. From his saddlebags, they determine his name is Bret Craig. Charlotte nurses Bret, manages the ranch, and cares for her three stepchildren she loves. Soon after Bret regains his memory they discover the remainder of the ranch’s cattle herd has been rustled.
Bret re-evaluates his priorities in order to embrace the love blossoming between Charlotte and him. Can they save the ranch and recover the stolen cattle?
Bret must have dropped off to sleep. When he roused himself he sat on the edge of the bed for several minutes. He was about to stand when Davie rushed into the room.
The boy looked about to cry. “Mr. Craig, can you come to the porch? Mr. Winfield is here upsetting Mama.”
Bret reached for his rifle. “You’d better walk beside me. I’m not too steady yet. Help me tuck in my shirt so I look decent.”
They made their way to the front door.
Bret pulled off his bandage and tossed it at a table before stepping onto the porch. “Is something wrong, Charlotte?” He carried his rifle.
She looked almost as surprised as the man facing her. Another man sat on his horse nearby.
The man facing Charlotte scowled. “Who are you?”
“A friend of the family and you must be Winfield.”
Charlotte glared at the man. “Mr. Winfield was just leaving.”
Winfield pointed at Bret. “I still don’t know who you are, mister.”
“I don’t see that it’s any of your business, mister. I believe Charlotte said you were leaving.” He cocked his rifle and leveled it at Winfield. “You on the horse, don’t draw or you’re a dead man. In fact, I believe you’re both trespassing and I can shoot you without worry.”
“You’ll regret this. I’ll talk to you another time, Mrs. Dunn.”
“Not everyone is for sale, Mr. Winfield.”
The man mounted his horse and after a glare at Bret, he galloped away with his friend following.
Davie cheered. “You did it, Mr. Craig, you scared him off.”
“Mrs. Dunn, I beg your pardon for addressing you by your given name. It seemed best under the circumstances. Now, I believe I’d better sit down somewhere.”
She rushed to his side. “Let me help you. Put your arm over my shoulder so I can help support you. Davie, tend to the rifle and remember it’s been cocked.” She guided Bret inside the house.
His legs threatened to give way. “Perhaps we could stop and rest a moment.”
“If you can make it into the kitchen you can sit at the table. Our lunch is almost ready.”
He was never so glad to see a chair. At least he didn’t believe he was. “Why was he here this time and what upset you so?”
“It’s almost laughable.” When she looked up, anger sparked in her eyes. “If you can believe the nerve, he came to propose to me.”
“I thought you said you were a recent widow.”
“I am. He said he knew I didn’t want to lose the ranch and if we married I could share all the land. He even agreed to let me bring the children.” She appeared angrier. “Of course Davie and Susie would have to go to boarding school. He graciously said Jimmy wouldn’t have to go away until he was a year older.”
Bret looked where Davie had stood his rifle. “I wish I’d shot him.”
I hope you’ll read and enjoy CHARLOTTE’S CHALLENGE.
Wednesday, September 16, 2020
This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. The publisher will be awarding a $10 Amazon gift card to a randomly drawn winner via Rafflecopter and a signed copy of the book to a randomly drawn winner via Rafflecopter. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.
When billionaire game designer, Brogan Prescott, asks Corbett to consult on a major vineyard acquisition, Corbett sees it as a shot at redemption, until he learns of Brogan’s ridiculous vision of a virtual-reality, Woke Ant Colony Winery. Disgusted, Corbett decides to buy the vineyard himself and preserve its magic and history. Cashless, clueless, and with his reputation in tatters, Corbett enlists the help of his bass-player-turned-lawyer Seamus O’Flaherty, who may have finally lost his stomach for Corbett’s bad ideas; his uber-rational daughter Remy, who wants Corbett to uncork some family secrets he’d rather leave in the cellar; and Sydney Cameron, whose sudden appearance in Corbett’s life may repair his heart or shatter it forever.
With their help-and sometimes despite it-Corbett discovers what Brogan has known all along: a four-billion-dollar gold deposit lies beneath the vineyard. If Brogan acquires the property, the ensuing gold rush will destroy Napa Valley.
But if Corbett can get out of his own way long enough to purchase the vineyard first, he’ll be faced with the hardest decision of his life: take the fame and fortune he desperately craves, or save the soul of the valley he loves so much.
Read an Excerpt
Let’s get one thing clear - I won that bet fair and square, even though I cheated.
I blame the whole thing on Rick Dornin, who was being particularly douchey that night. I used to be able to choose whichever party I wanted to serve without question. That is, until Dornin arrived at Appellation with his anal-retentive online calendar and industrial-grade Napoleon complex.
Yes, that Appellation. The most coveted dining experience in all of Napa Valley, and one of only nine restaurants in America awarded three Michelin stars. It took a DNA sample and a copy of your credit report to get a table, and then you’d better be ready to cash in your 401(k) when the bill came.
The evening started out normally enough. I arrived at the restaurant an hour before my shift to check reservations, talk to Chef Dan about the evening’s specials, and think of pairings for the prix fixe. Dornin was in his office—a modified broom closet next to the staff bathroom that looked like a hoarder’s den with one, tiny deer trail leading to his desk. In fact, he was always in his office, even when service was slammed, which drove me batshit crazy. I don’t care if you’re General Manager or General Patton—when it’s time to schlep a plate or buff a glass, you step up and do it.
Anyway, I poked my head through the doorway and said, “Hey, Rick,” trying to keep things light and cheery. “What do you know about this Harrison party at eight?”
“Whales,” he replied, not bothering to look up from his purchase orders. “Big whales, like Moby Dick whales.”
“Sweet!” Visions of stockbrokers trying to one-up each other with bottles of Screaming Eagle at five thousand bucks a pop danced in my head. Tips so big they come in a brown paper bag.
“Yes.” Dornin finally looked up at me and grinned like he learned how to do it from an infomercial. “They’ll be in the Veraison Room. With Andrew.”
“What?” I lunged into the tiny office, nearly tripping over a carton of water glasses. “You can’t give it to Andrew!”
“I can give it to whoever I want.” He went back to his purchase orders, feigning a nonchalance that made me want to smack him. “If I want to move Felipe off of bussing and let him pop some corks, I could do that, too.”
Time for a different tack—one that wouldn’t involve me going full-on Hannibal Lecter. “I’m just saying that a party like that comes to a restaurant like this to experience the highest level of service in the world. I’m the guy they’re coming for, not Andrew. I sit for my Master Somm next week, and—”
“You know what you are, Corbett? You’re an overpaid bartender.” Dornin had thin lips and an Adam’s apple the size of Detroit, and it bugged me. “You trained for twenty years to learn how to pull a cork from a bottle and tell people that red wine goes with steak. Whoop-tee-freaking-do. You’ll work the floor tonight, and you can have the Jansen party on the terrace at seven-thirty.”
My left eyebrow started twitching, which happens when I get stressed out. Apparently, no one can see it, but to me, it feels like a two-year-old is digging tiny fingers into my face and stretching it like saltwater taffy. I considered trying the No One Has Experience At Up-Selling Like I Do approach, but this was the third time in as many weeks I’d had such a run-in with Dornin.
I was done.
It was time to talk to Chef Dan.
Most people remember Chef Daniel Foyer from his five seasons on Elite Chef, The Food Channel’s number one show from 1998 to 2002. With a chin so chiseled it could slice a burnt chuck steak and blue eyes that screamed, “Come taste this gazpacho in my bedroom,” he was the prototype celebrity chef. But Father Time had been most inhospitable to Chef Dan, and for the past couple of years the poor soul tried to counteract a rapid aging process by dunking his scalp and Sam Elliott-sized mustache in a fifty-gallon drum of jet-black hair dye. The net effect was so incongruous with the rest of his wrinkled face that I could barely look at him without drowning in the shore break of cognitive dissonance.
Don’t get me wrong, I loved the guy. He was a loyal and trusted friend, and straight-up the most amazing culinary artist of my generation. But if I’d had any money, I would have bought stock in Just For Men and eventually retire on my Chef Dan profits alone.
By 1996, John and his band, The Uninvited, had produced four independent albums and became one of the most popular acts in the western United States. This lead to a deal on Atlantic Records, which released the band’s self-titled debut album in 1997. The band had two Top 100 hits, and toured nationally with Dave Matthews, Blues Traveller, Third Eye Blind and many other acts. Their music appeared in the TV shows Beverly Hills 90210 and Party of Five, and in the motion pictures The Commandments and North Beach. The band can also be heard in several HBO Documentaries, video games and on that annoying “One Hit Wonders of The 90’s” station your co-worker always plays on Spotify.
In 2001, John’s vast experience in shattered dreams was once again called into play as the band hung up their touring shoes for good. After a brief but horrifying career in real estate, John got wise and made a career out of his favorite hobby – wine – and has held various sales and marketing positions in Napa Valley since 2011. John’s writing career started in earnest at this point, with blogs, essays and short stories appearing in various publications. John is the author of three novels, including the aptly-titled Pairs With: Life, which will be released by Hurn Publications in September 2020.
The Book Depository: https://www.bookdepository.com/Pairs-With-Life-John-Taylor-Triumph-Book-Covers-Raven-Eckman/9781734763416
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Monday, September 14, 2020
This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Jackie Barbosa will be awarding a $20 Amazon or B/N GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.
After almost twenty-five years in His Majesty’s service, Lieutenant Colonel Geoffrey Langston never expected to wake up in heaven, much less being tended by an angel. But when he regains consciousness in the presence of a beautiful, dark-haired woman and with no memory of how he came to be there, what else can he think? Except it’s rather odd for an angel to have an American accent.
As the long-widowed Laura nurses the wounded Geoffrey back to health, the attraction between them heats from a simmer to a boil. Bound by his oath to the British crown, Geoffrey should be working to find his way back to his regiment and from there, to England. Instead, he’s sleeping with the enemy…and thereby committing the crime of desertion if not treason. But then, who’s going to find out?
If only Geoffrey didn’t have a family back home who refuse to take “missing in action” for an answer.
The obvious answer would be to take him to Fort Moreau as soon as he could reasonably be expected to tolerate the journey. There he would be held by the army as a prisoner until such time as the war ended, at which point he would likely be returned to the British in exchange for American prisoners. He would be treated well during his stay, insofar as any person denied his freedom could be said to be treated well, and eventually return home to his family in England. Clearly, it was the only reasonable—and possibly the only lawful—course of action.
Why, then, did even the idea fill her with misery and remorse? It wasn’t as if she knew anything about him save his name, military rank, and nationality.
And that he had beautiful eyes in a shockingly handsome face.
Dear God, am I really that shallow? That shameless?
Then again, perhaps after almost ten years alone, she had earned the right to be the slightest bit shallow, the tiniest bit shameless.
On the road to publication, I took a few detours, including a stint in academia (I hold an MA in Classics from the University of Chicago and was a recipient of a Mellon Fellowship in the Humanities) and many years as a technical writer/instructional designer for a data processing company. I still hold my day job, but my true vocation has always been writing fiction and romance in particular.
I’m a firm believer that love is the most powerful force in the world, which that makes romance the most powerful genre in the world. Don’t ever let anyone tell you otherwise!
Buy Links for Sleeping with the Enemy
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Friday, September 11, 2020