Category: Giveaway

Guest Author JAC WRIGHT showcase & giveaway ENDED

WELCOME JAC WRIGHT

JAC WRIGHT

Jac Wright is a poet published in literary magazines, a published author, and an electronics engineer educated at Stanford, University College London, and Cambridge who lives and works in England. Jac studied English literature from the early age of three, developing an intense love for poetry, drama, and writing in Trinity College Speech & Drama classes taken afternoons and Saturdays for fourteen years, and in subsequent creative writing classes taken during the university years. A published poet, Jac’s first passion was for literary fiction and poetry writing as well as for the dramatic arts. You will find these influences in the poetic imagery and prose, the dramatic scene setting, and the deep character creation.
These passions – for poetry, drama, literary fiction, and electronic engineering – have all been lovingly combined to create the first book in the literary suspense series, The Reckless Engineer. There are millions of professionals in high tech corporate environments who work in thousands of cities in the US, the UK, and the world such as engineers, technicians, technical managers, investment bankers, and corporate lawyers. High drama, power struggles, and human interest stories play out in the arena every day. Yet there are hardly any books that tell their stories; there are not many books that they can identify with. Jac feels compelled to tell their stories in The Reckless Engineer series.
Jac also writes the literary short fiction series, Summerset Tales, in which he explores characters struggling against their passions and social circumstances in the semi-fictional region of contemporary England called Summerset, partly the region that Thomas Hardy called Wessex. Some of the tales have an added element of suspense similar to Roald Dahl’s Tales of the Unexpected. The collection is published as individual tales in the tradition of Charles Dickens’ The Pickwick Papers and Thomas Hardy’s Wessex Tales. The first tale, The Closet, accompanies the author’s first full-length literary suspense title, The Reckless Engineer.
Connect with Jac at these sites:

WEBSITE        TWITTER   

Q&A with Jac Wright

-Do you draw from personal experiences and/or current events?
Quite a bit of my experiences make their way into my writing, but not in a direct way. Bits of different experiences are mixed together with a lot of imaginary and fictitious characters and events.  A character might have the looks of a stranger I might have spotted on the train, certain mannerisms of a friend, and a completely imaginary personality. It is so mixed together that the end result is fictitious.

I have not used events in the news for my books published so far.  However, I use parts of the Northern Bank Robbery which happened in Belfast in December 2004 as an event to fictitiously model some action in my next book, “Buy, Sell, Murder”.  I also use the Barclays Libor fixing scandal somewhat carefully in it.

-Do you start with the conclusion and plot in reverse or start from the beginning and
see where the story line brings you?
Oh, no.  I start with a core idea central to the plot that would have come to me in a moment of inspiration, almost like a dream or a segment of a movie. The main characters are inextricably interwoven into this segment.  I then build the other characters around this, give each character a psychology, and let the characters drive the story forward by keeping each one true to his or her psychology.

For example, I woke up late on a warm summer day this June with an image of a fugitive escaping and running away from an overturned van transporting him to court from prison that had met with an accident. Prisoners wear normal clothing in England, not orange jumpsuits, and they are not in chains.  He runs into the crowds and a bus parked behind a mall to hide among the people only to find that it is a film set.  The actor playing a main character of the movie and the director are having a fight. The actor suddenly punches the director in the face who falls backward. My protagonist fugitive hiding among the supporting film crew catches him and breaks the fall.  The director gets up, wipes the blood off his nose, fires the main actor loudly, and asks him to get out of his movie set.  He turns to my protagonist and asks: ‘You there, what’s your name?’  ‘Art Miller,’ he gives a fake name.  ‘Art, you are playing Michael Fallon. His trailer is yours now. Go with my crew and get dressed.’  And there I have the plot, the main characters, and the first chapter of my standalone book, In Plain Sight.

-Your routine when writing?  Any idiosyncrasies?
My only routine is I have none. I write when time allows me and inspiration hits me. I usually prefer to write at my desk on my big-screen server I do my engineering work on, but sometimes I might move to a different spot or go outside with my laptop.  To make it easy I keep my writing on a USB drive and back up onto my 3 computers about once a week.

-Is writing your full time job?  If not, may I ask what you do by day?
I am an electronics and software engineer by day. However, I have recently left full-time nine-to-five work to start an engineering firm with a friend and I take on engineering subcontracts that allow me more flexibility to write when I want and do the engineering work when I want.

-Who are some of your favorite authors?
I love most of the classics. Out of the authors in my genre I really like Patricia Highsmith, Roald Dahl, Ian Rankin, and Benjamin Black.

-What are you reading now?
I am re-reading Wuthering Heights. I grew up reading a lot of mystery and suspense fiction and writing in the suspense genre comes easily to me.  However, I need to hone my skills in writing the romances that run as sub-plots in my work, and what other way is there to do that than read the greatest romances ever written? I read Wuthering Heights in my mid-twenties, but I have forgotten the details; and this time I am really absorbing the work.

I am also reading this time’s Mann Booker prize winner, The Luminaries.

-Are you working on your next novel?  Can you tell us a little about it?
One of them is In Plain Sight that I described above.  The second in The Reckless engineer series – Buy, Sell, Murder – and Summerset Tales #2 – The Bank Job– are also half written.  I hope to publish two of these in 2014.

-Your novel will be a movie.  Who would you cast?
Daniel Craig would be good to play the series lead, Jeremy Aiden Stone, though he would have to look a decade younger.
A great alternative would be Scott Eastwood (Clint Eastwood Junior) if his acting abilities are anything like his dad’s, but they would have to age him a decade which I not hard.
Richard Armitage would be absolutely perfect to play Harry Stavers, the defence counsel.
Desmond Harrington (from Dexter) could play the mess that is Jack Connor really well.
Jessica Biel had the right looks for Caitlin McAllen-Connor, Jack Connor’s wife, with a shorter haircut; and she would have to play the character a stronger personality than she is used to.
Jeremy Irons for Douglas McAllen, Caitlin’s father.
I know Otter looks like Lenny Kravitz.  So they will have to cast a new actor in the role.

-Manuscript/Notes: hand written or keyboard?
Keyboard.  It is too hard to do re-writes and corrections with handwritten.  Having said that, I admit that I wrote chapters 28 through 44 (to the end) with a black ballpoint pen, doing correction with a blue ballpoint pen first and typed it up later.

-Favorite leisure activity/hobby?
Writing. LOL. Other than that I love kittens and puppies.

-Favorite meal?
Authentic Spanish enchiladas with a shredded beef filling; with a Margarita to sip.

Thank you for stopping by CMash Reads and spending time with us.

ABOUT THE BOOK

Can you forgive betrayal?

The aftershocks of an affair reverberate out to those in the lives of the lovers, who will NOT take it lying down.

Jack Connor lives an idyllic life by the Portsmouth seaside married to Caitlin McAllen, a stunning billionaire heiress, and working at his two jobs as the Head of Radar Engineering of Marine Electronics and as the Director of Engineering of McAllen BlackGold, his powerful father-in-law’s extreme engineering company in oil & gas. He loves his two sons from his first marriage and is amicably divorced from his beautiful first wife, Marianne Connor. Their delicately balanced lives are shattered when the alluring Michelle Williams, with whom Jack is having a secret affair, is found dead and Jack is arrested on suspicion for the murder.
Jeremy Stone brings in a top London defence attorney, Harry Stavers, to handle his best friend’s defence.

Who is the bald man with the tattoo of a skull seen entering the victim’s house? Who is the “KC” that Caitlin makes secret calls to from a disposable mobile? Has the powerful Douglas McAllen already killed his daughter’s first partner, and is he capable of killing again? Is Caitlin’s brother’s power struggle with Jack for the control of McAllen Industries so intense that he is prepared to kill and frame him? Is the divorce from his first wife as amicable on her part as they believe it to be? Are his sons prepared to kill for their vast inheritance? Who are the ghosts from Caitlin’s past haunting the marriage? What is the involvement of Jack’s manager at Marine Electronics?

While Jack is charged and his murder trial proceeds in the Crown Court under barrister Harry Stavers’ expert care, Jeremy runs a race against time to find the real killer and save his friend’s life, if he is in fact innocent, in a tense tale of love, friendship, power, and ambition.

Read an excerpt

Despite the comfort and luxury all around him Jeremy was woken from a night of disturbed sleep by the sound of the dogs barking. It was 8:20 Saturday morning. There were voices downstairs in anxious chatter. His room (huh, he thought of this as his room now, did he?) was a first-floor en-suite with a bath. Actually it had a shared bathroom separating two twin rooms, but the second one had never been occupied whenever he had been here.

Jeremy washed his face quickly and hurried to the cupboard. Caitlin had laid out some clean clothes. He set his oversized laptop case, in which he carried a sleek laptop he had enhanced to pack in massive processing and memory power, so compact it hardly took any space, on the bed. Into the remaining space he generally packed various gadgets and electronics equipment he needed at client sites, including some “emergency” underwear and socks.

He pulled on a pair of black slacks and a blue Polo T-shirt from the cupboard. They must be Ronnie’s. Being slightly over 6 feet tall and having a wider frame, he did not fit so well into Jack’s clothes. He stepped out of his room and followed the voices downstairs.

One of the boys who worked in the stables and on the land, a brown lad in muddy Wellington boots, was talking animatedly to Caitlin, who was still in her dressing gown, in the kitchen.

‘There is police again at the front gate, sénora,’ he said with a heavy Spanish accent. ‘I put Molly and Max in the stables, ha?’

Caitlin and Jeremy hurried to the front reception with little Bubbles the puppy Lab running circles around them. There were two police cars at the gates.

‘If you could open the gates, Caitlin, I shall handle this,’ he said, thinking how lovely and vulnerable she looked with no makeup on and with tousled dark brown hair some length between short and medium. Something about a damsel-in-distress in silks stirred a man’s loins.

Jeremy went back to his room, splashed his face with icy cold water, and put on his shoes. He stepped out as the police cars pulled up outside the front door.

BOOK DETAILS:

Genre: Mystery, Legal Thriller, Suspense
Print Length: 340 pages
Publisher: Soul Mate Publishing
Publication Date: November 3, 2013
ISBN-10: 1619353210
ISBN-13: 978-1619353213
ASIN: B00GH67LVC

PURCHASE LINKS:

           

THANKS TO AUTHOR, JAC WRIGHT,
I
HAVE ONE (1) DIGITAL COPY OF THE CLOSET
(short fiction) TO GIVE AWAY.

EBOOK~~OPEN TO ALL
FILL OUT RAFFLECOPTER ENTRY FORM BELOW
GIVEAWAY ENDS DECEMBER 31st AT 6PM EST
WINNER WILL BE CHOSEN BY RAFFLECOPTER AND NOTIFIED
VIA EMAIL AND WILL HAVE 48 HOURS TO RESPOND
OR ANOTHER NAME WILL BE CHOSEN

a Rafflecopter giveaway

YOUR JAVA SCRIPT MAY NEED TO BE UPDATED
IF YOU AR EXPERIENCING DIFFICULTY
USING THE RAFFLECOPTER ENTRY FORM

DISCLAIMER
I received a copy of this book, at no charge to me, in exchange for my honest review. No items that I receive are ever sold…they are kept by me, or given to family and/or friends.
ADDENDUM
I do not have any affiliation with Amazon.com or Barnes & Noble. I am an IndieBound affiliate. I am providing link(s) solely for visitors that may be interested in purchasing this Book/EBook.

 

And the winner is……..

…….of The Bourne Retribution by Eric Van Lustbader

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An email has been sent and the winner has 48 hours to respond or another winner will be chosen.  Thank you to all that entered.

And the winner is……..

…of Permanent Enemy by Paul Roberts

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….of Anybody’s Daughter by Pamela Samuels Young

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Guest Author LIZ STAUFFER showcase & giveaway ENDED

WELCOME LIZ STAUFFER

LIZ STAUFFER

After some thirty years writing everything from political encyclopedias to software manuals, I retired from corporate life to write fiction, travel, and play on the beach. Since that time, I’ve traveled extensively throughout the United States and the world. I live most of the year in Hollywood, Florida, with my two doggie best friends, Mattie and Jakey, where I own and manage a vacation rental business.
Connect with Liz at these sites:

WEBSITE    TWITTER   

 

ABOUT THE BOOK

Things are not always what they seem in Liz Stauffer’s fast paced book of murder, mystery, and intrigue. When the “breakfast club” ladies of idyllic Mount Penn see bruises on Clare Ballard’s pretty face, they suspect her hot-headed husband of abusing her, but the truth is much more complicated. When violence disrupts this Appalachian village’s lazy routine, the ladies, led by the irascible Lillie Mae Harris, jump feet first into danger as bodies appear, neighbors disappear, and Clare is arrested for murder. Follow Lillie Mae and the other “breakfast club” ladies, who, armed with casseroles and pastries, help the police uncover the deep secrets this town hides beneath its perfect facade.

 

Read an excerpt

“Clare’s dead!”

When she spoke the words, her voice was so low it was barely above a whisper. The sturdy woman with short, curly red hair dropped the handset back into its cradle and began to pace, the phone still ringing on the other end of the line.

Lillie Mae Harris stopped at the front window, taking no notice of the white buds that were just opening on the two Bradford pear trees in her front yard, or the spring flowers peeping through the freshly hoed soil in the close- by flower bed. Her thoughts were of Clare.

She had the best view in Mount Penn from this window. On a winter’s morning she could see for some thirty miles out over the valley with the big blue sky as the backdrop. The night view was even more amazing, offering a shower of dancing lights in the distance competing only with the brightest stars.

It was now early spring and the vista had already begun to shrink even though the trees were just beginning to bud. Once the trees were filled out with big green leaves the view would pull in even more until fall when the colors exploded and the view once again took one’s breath away. But today the scenery did nothing to still Lillie Mae’s pounding heart or quell her shaking hands. She couldn’t stop worrying about Clare. Rushing back to the phone, she scooped it up, and punched in a familiar number.

“Hello.” Alice Portman answered in her sweet Southern drawl, after just one ring. Her Jack Russell terrier, Alfred, barked in the background.

“Clare’s not answering her phone this morning,” Lillie Mae said. “I’m so worried about her, Alice. I’m not sure what to do.”

“Settle down, Lillie Mae,” Alice said, shushing Alfred. “Why are you more concerned today?”

“You were at the water meeting last night,” Lillie Mae said. “You saw how Roger was acting. Yelling and screaming like an idiot. When he’s gotten that riled up in the past, Clare’s been his punching bag.”

“Well, yes,” Alice agreed, deliberately slowing the pace of the conversation. “But, Roger was just being Roger last night, dear. Just showing off. I didn’t see anything unusual in his behavior. Certainly nothing to make you so worried this morning.”

“He was acting worse than usual,” Lillie Mae insisted, still pacing the living room floor. “And I’m sure he drank himself crazy when the meeting was finally over. That’s the real reason I’m worried, Alice. You know how he is when he drinks. What he does to Clare.”

“Roger playacts, you know, when it suits him, Lillie Mae,” Alice said, her voice still soft and cool. “He knows he’s going to make a lot of money hooking people up to the public water in a few short months, but he wants to come across as the good guy to his neighbors, not the money grubbing fool that he is. He’ll use every wile that he has to seduce the community. If the project fails, which it won’t this time, he looks like he’s the man who stopped it. If it passes, he wins big time.”

“You’re probably right, Alice,” Lillie Mae said, calming a bit. “I know Roger is shrewd. If he wasn’t always out there trying to make a deal, he wouldn’t be Roger, I guess.”

“So, stop overreacting, Lillie Mae. What’s brought all this on anyway?”

“I’ve been calling Clare’s house all morning and nobody answers the phone,” Lillie Mae said. “It’s stupid, I know, but I picture Clare lying on her kitchen floor, needing my help. Dead, even.”

A sigh escaped Alice’s lips. “You’re way over dramatizing this morning, Lillie Mae,” she said. “Roger’s not even home. He drove by me in that stupid yellow Hummer of his while Alfred and I were out on our early morning walk.”

“That’s good to hear,” Lillie Mae said. “Stop imagining the worst, Lillie Mae. Clare’s probably out, too. It’s such a warm spring day. Doesn’t she usually go grocery shopping on Wednesday mornings?”

“Maybe,” Lillie Mae conceded. “Or she could be in her garden, I guess.”

“She’ll call you back when she gets to it,” Alice said, a hint of impatience in her voice.

“I doubt if she does.” Lillie Mae’s voice broke. “She rarely calls me anymore. We’ve been such good friends for so many years and I miss her, Alice. I wish I knew what I did wrong.”

“Clare’s changing, Lillie Mae. She’s getting stronger. Give the girl some space.”

“I’ve noticed a change, too,” Lillie Mae said, “since Billy went off to university. She does have more confidence, I’ll give you that.”

“Have you written your article on the water meeting for the Antioch Gazette, yet?” Alice asked. “I thought it was due today.”

“Not yet,” Lillie Mae confessed. “I’ve been too worried about Clare.”

“Maybe being busy will take your mind off things that are not really any of your business,” Alice said.

“I guess you’re right,” Lillie Mae said. “Clare’s a big girl and can take care of herself.”

“I know that well,” Lillie Mae said, then suddenly turned serious again when her thoughts returned to Clare. “I’m walking down to Clare’s to check things out before I start on the article. I need to make certain she’s all right, or I won’t be able to concentrate on my work. Do you want to come along?”

“No, you go on, if it’ll make you feel better,” Alice said. “You can fill me in on the details at dinner this evening.”

BOOK DETAILS:

Genre: Mystery & Detective – Women Sleuths
Publisher: Sartoris Literary Group
Publication Date: June 28, 2013
Number of Pages: 244 pages
ISBN-10: 0989318605
ISBN-13: 978-0989318600

PURCHASE LINKS:

        

THANKS TO KELSEY AT BOOK PUBLICITY SERVICES,
I
HAVE ONE (1) KINDLE COPY TO GIVE AWAY.
KINDLE FORMAT~~~OPEN TO ALL 
FILL OUT RAFFLECOPTER ENTRY FORM BELOW
GIVEAWAY ENDS DECEMBER 27th AT 6PM EST

WINNER WILL BE CHOSEN BY RAFFLECOPTER AND NOTIFIED
VIA EMAIL AND WILL HAVE 48 HOURS TO RESPOND
OR ANOTHER NAME WILL BE CHOSEN

a Rafflecopter giveaway

YOUR JAVA SCRIPT MAY NEED TO BE UPDATED
IF YOU AR EXPERIENCING DIFFICULTY
USING THE RAFFLECOPTER ENTRY FORM

DISCLAIMER
I received a copy of this book, at no charge to me, in exchange for my honest review. No items that I receive are ever sold…they are kept by me, or given to family and/or friends.
ADDENDUM
I do not have any affiliation with Amazon.com or Barnes & Noble. I am an IndieBound affiliate. I am providing link(s) solely for visitors that may be interested in purchasing this Book/EBook.

 

Guest Author FRANCES FYFIELD showcase & giveaway

WELCOME FRANCES FYFIELD

FRANCES FYFIELD

“I grew up in rural Derbyshire, but my adult life has been spent mostly in London, with long intervals in Norfolk and Deal, all inspiring places. I was educated mostly in convent schools; then studied English and went on to qualify as a solicitor, working for what is now the Crown Prosecution Service, thus learning a bit about murder at second hand. Years later, writing became the real vocation, although the law and its ramifications still haunt me and inform many of my novels.

I’m a novelist, short story writer for magazines and radio, sometime Radio 4 contributor, (Front Row, Quote Unquote, Night Waves,) and presenter of Tales from the Stave. When I’m not working (which is as often as possible), I can be found in the nearest junk/charity shop or auction, looking for the kind of paintings which enhance my life. Otherwise, with a bit of luck, I’m relaxing by the sea with a bottle of wine and a friend or two.”-Frances Fyfield
Connect with Ms. Fyfield at these sites:

WEBSITE        TWITTER   

ABOUT THE BOOK

Marianne Shearer is at the height of her career, a dauntingly successful barrister, respected by her peers and revered by her clients. So why has she killed herself? Her latest case had again resulted in an acquittal, although the outcome was principally due to the death of the prime witness after Marianne’s forceful cross-examination. Had this wholly professional and unemotional lawyer been struck by guilt or uncertainty, or is there some secret to be discovered in her blandly comfortable private life? Her tenacious colleague Peter Friel is determined to find out of that last trial held the reason for her taking her own life. The transcript holds intriguing clues, but it is another witness at the trial who holds the key to the truth.

READ AN EXCERPT

The trial had gone wrong on her, with the right result, certainly, one achieved through exploitation of weakness, legal argument, bullying, manipulation and luck. The suicide of the prime witness could only be called a misfortune. A thoroughly professional hatchet job on her part, in other words. It was for the prosecution to prove their case and for her to destroy it; she had done the latter but the result would not cover her with glory simply because it would be seen as an outrageous piece of cruel luck, rather than advocacy.

She would not want to say goodbye. She would never want to see him again, but he was fresh out of jail and for the first time he was leaving the court via the front door and not via the prison van. The prison van, he had told her, was an exquisitely uncomfortable mode of transport, like traveling on the inside of a human time bomb complete with molded plastic seats and manacles.

BOOK DETAILS:

Genre: Crime Thriller
Published by: Witness Impulse
Publication Date: 11/26/2013
Number of Pages: 336
ISBN: 9780062301864

PURCHASE LINKS:

       

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DISCLAIMER
No items that I receive are ever sold…they are kept by me, or given to family and/or friends.
ADDENDUM
I do not have any affiliation with Amazon.com or Barnes & Noble. I am an IndieBound affiliate. I am providing link(s) solely for visitors that may be interested in purchasing this Book/EBook.

WOW! Tours Present: MARTHE JOCELYN ENDED

WELCOME MARTHE JOCELYN

MARTHE JOCELYN

Marthe Jocelyn spent her childhood in Toronto reading books and putting on plays and circuses in her backyard. Marthe has a long string of jobs: theatre usher, cookie seller, waitress, photo stylist, even toy designer before she finally settled on writer.

Marthe lives in Ontario with her daughters Nell and Hannah but still goes back home to NYC each summer.
Connect with Marthe at these sites:

WEBSITE    TWITTER   

GUEST POST

Readers of this blog are often mystery fans as well,  so you may be wondering why a craft book written to inspire children would be featured in this space. Well, I’m here to offer up a different kind of mystery-making, the kind you stumble across when you’re walking down the street of any big city. Whose baby dropped the pacifier that lies in the gutter? How did someone lose a single high-heeled shoe and not notice? What do those scrawls on the side of the garage actually say? Why is that statue of Garibaldi wearing a woolly red hat?

Walking my kids to school through downtown Manhattan was a daily scavenger hunt. We saw dozens of strange and amusing things every week, eventually inspiring us to come up with our own contributions to the great urban gallery.

One daughter spent an afternoon tying coloured yarn to the black fence that bordered the playground. The other daughter painted faces on stones and left them on park benches for unsuspecting sitters. Both girls made elaborate chalk mazes on sidewalks and elegant structures out of feathers and sticks in the sandbox.  They built little houses from jewelry boxes to hide in odd corners in the classroom, and often put surprise drawings inside menus in restaurants. Making the art was one phase. Hiding it was the next. And watching friends or strangers find it – seeing the whodunnit moment in action – that was the best last chapter.

The seeds of artistic mischief were planted, several years later to bear fruit as Sneaky Art: Crafty Projects to Hide in Plain Sight. The book is a how-to manual with instructions for 24 projects and inspiration for many more.

It comes with a disclaimer, of course, reminding young artists that sneaky art is NOT: mean, defacing, ugly, hurtful, messy, or permanent. Sneaky art is NOT graffiti or litter. Sneaky art is” funny, clever, thoughtful, temporary, subversive, playful, and surprising!

 

ABOUT THE BOOK

For young artists, tricksters, and crafters, here is a hip, friendly how-to manual for creating removable and shareable art projects from easily found materials. The sneaky part is in the installation! Each work of art is custom-created for display in public places — a tiny cork-bottomed boat in a public fountain, a plate of tiny paper cupcakes on your teacher’s desk, a penny left on the ground for a stranger, a funny message left on your mother’s bathroom mirror, and more. This utterly unique guide — part craft book, part art-philosophy — offers a stylish and sweet “made-you-look-twice” spirit of fun meant to put a smile on the faces of strangers and loved ones alike.

BOOK DETAILS:

Genre: Crafts & Hobbies
Age Range: 8 – 12 years
Grade Level: 3 – 7
Hardcover: 64 pages
Publisher: Candlewick; Spi edition
Publication Date: March 26, 2013
ISBN-10: 0763656488
ISBN-13: 978-0763656485

PURCHASE LINKS:

       

THANKS TO JODI AT WOW!,
I
HAVE ONE (1) PDF COPY TO GIVE AWAY.
PDF~~OPEN TO ALL
FILL OUT RAFFLECOPTER ENTRY FORM BELOW
GIVEAWAY ENDS DECEMBER 26th AT 6PM EST

th_WOWblogExcellencerubyslippers

WINNER WILL BE CHOSEN BY RAFFLECOPTER AND NOTIFIED
VIA EMAIL AND WILL HAVE 48 HOURS TO RESPOND
OR ANOTHER NAME WILL BE CHOSEN

a Rafflecopter giveaway

YOUR JAVA SCRIPT MAY NEED TO BE UPDATED
IF YOU AR EXPERIENCING DIFFICULTY
USING THE RAFFLECOPTER ENTRY FORM

DISCLAIMER
I received a copy of this book, at no charge to me, in exchange for my honest review. No items that I receive are ever sold…they are kept by me, or given to family and/or friends.
ADDENDUM
I do not have any affiliation with Amazon.com or Barnes & Noble. I am an IndieBound affiliate. I am providing link(s) solely for visitors that may be interested in purchasing this Book/EBook.

 

FOREVER’S 3rd Day of Christmas giveaway ENDED

 

 

Once Upon a Highland Christmas by Sue-Ellen Welfonder

Warrior Grim Mackintosh understands why his friend Archibald MacNab has decreed there be no trace of Christmas in his castle. After a devastating attack destroyed everything-and everyone-in Archie’s life, he prefers to stew in his own misery until the holiday passes. But Duncreag has seen enough tragedy. Grim decides to throw a grand Yuletide feast, one that the bards will sing about for years to come, one that will remind his laird how beloved he is. He can’t do it alone, though. Grim needs an accomplice . . .

There’s nothing Breena O’Doherty won’t do for Archie, so she’s thrilled to help Grim with his plan. Yet she has a Christmas wish all her own-to win Grim’s heart-and this might be her only chance to make it come true. As Breena and Grim work together to bring the joy of the season to the cold, gloomy castle and to the heart of the cantankerous chieftain, an undeniable passion ignites between them. But when a shocking secret about Breena’s past comes to light, threatening everything she holds dear, will it ruin Christmas in Duncreag forevermore?

   

Sue-Ellen Welfonder is a Scotophile whose burning wish to make frequent trips to the land of her dreams led her to a twenty-year career with the airlines.

Now a full-time writer, she’s quick to admit that she much prefers wielding a pen to pushing tea and coffee. She makes annual visits to Scotland, insisting they are a necessity, as each trip gives her inspiration for new books. Proud of her own Hebridean ancestry, she belongs to two clan societies: the MacFie Clan Society and the Clan MacAlpine Society. In addition to Scotland, her greatest passions are medieval history, the paranormal, and dogs. She never watches television, loves haggis, and writes at a 450-year-old desk that once stood in a Bavarian castle.

Sue-Ellen is married and currently resides with her husband and Jack Russell terrier in Florida.

WEBSITE        TWITTER

 

Read an excerpt

Several of the younger garrison lads had tried to court her, wooing her with pretty words, gifts of woven cloth, and once—or so he’d heard—an armful of loveliest heather. Talk among the men was that she pretended not to hear the compliments, passed on the cloth to young mothers who needed it more, and placed the heather on graves of Duncreag’s fallen.

A few more persistent lads claimed she’d declined their attentions by saying her heart belonged to another.

And that she’d gazed wistfully into the distance when telling them so.

The lads said she looked toward Ireland.

Grim was sure she did. He was also certain the young man who held her affection ached for her as well.

It was a notion that pierced him to the core.

No saint, he swore beneath his breath, his blood heating all the same. Passion raged, fierce and demanding as he held her fast, claiming her lips with a bold roughness he just couldn’t help.

She was in his arms now.

And she tasted sweeter than the nectar of the gods.

When she lifted up on her toes and parted her lips to flick the tip of her tongue against his own, his agony was complete. Never before had a woman returned his kiss with such ardor. He believed most lasses feared him, big and rough-hewn as he was, without courtly manners. Breena was an angel beyond compare, a prize so rare he was stunned to have her in his arms, so soft and pliant.

He didn’t want to desire her.

Someday her Irish lover—if he’d survived the raid on her village—would ride up to Duncreag’s gates to claim her, taking her back across the sea. Grim certainly would if she were his. And he doubted Donegal men were any less possessive. He shouldn’t lay a finger on her.

Yet she set him aflame.

Knowing he was leaping into an abyss he could never escape, he nipped the lush curve of her lower lip and then deepened the kiss, letting his tongue glide into the soft velvet-warmth of her mouth. She kissed him back, her own tongue tangling with his, tantalizing and intimate, making him forget every reason he shouldn’t be touching her.

He pulled her closer, not caring. He shut his mind to the hurtful truth. That every time he thought she’d glanced his way, she quickly looked elsewhere. Indeed, she didn’t pay heed to any of the men at Duncreag. Not even bonnie younger lads so much more appealing than him.

Grim bit back a growl, not wanting to think of her yearning for an Inishowen lad in Donegal. Perhaps imagining such a lad now held her. Yet she was soft and warm in his arms. Her lips so yielding, her glossy tresses a spill of cool silk across his cheek, the dance of her tongue bewitching him. She even made a little mewing sound, responding eagerly as she returned the kiss.

What man could resist such temptation?

He surely couldn’t.

 

 

His For Christmas by Jennifer Haymore

Shy Lady Esme has a secret: the youngest sister of the Duke of Trent privately pens erotic stories! Her latest is the steamy story of two travelers who find themselves stranded in an inn when an unexpected snowstorm blankets the English countryside. Lady Amelia Witherspoon simply must get home to her beloved family on Christmas Eve. So when a terrible storm threatens to leave her snowbound, she refuses to admit defeat-even if that means sharing a carriage with Evan Cameron, the lastman she ever hoped to see . . .

Evan can’t fathom why his oldest friend is as icy to him as the winter wind. All he does know is that Amelia is still the loveliest, most tempting woman he’s ever laid eyes on. Their only option is to take refuge together at a nearby inn, sharing the one remaining room. Evan promises to be a gentleman . . . but it’s a promise neither of them wants him to keep.

   

As a child, Jennifer Haymore traveled the South Pacific with her family on their homebuilt sailboat. The months spent on the sometimes quiet, sometimes raging seas sparked her love of adventure and grand romance. Since then, she’s earned degrees in computer science and education and held various jobs ranging from bookselling to teaching inner-city children to acting, but she’s never stopped writing.

You can find Jennifer in Southern California trying to talk her husband into yet another trip to England, helping her three children with homework while brainstorming a new five-minute dinner menu, or crouched in a corner of the local bookstore writing her next novel.

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Read an excerpt

Back in the carriage, where she was hiding from the weather while Evan secured their rooms at the inn, Amelia sighed. Though she’d tried to be polite with him for the past hour, she’d been stewing in inner turmoil the whole time.

He was insanely handsome. More handsome than she remembered, and she’d already remembered him as the handsomest boy she’d ever known. His proximity did all sorts of wicked things to her body, made her skin feel sensitive and achy, and an intense erotic need furled between her legs. Everything about him called to her on a most carnal level, from the way he spoke to her to the hardness of his body to the rugged planes of his face, and her desire had grown ever stronger as the miles had rolled beneath the wheels of the carriage.

But her body didn’t know what her mind did—he was also the cruelest boy she’d ever known. He’d pretended to admire her, but in reality he’d scorned her behind her back. After she’d discovered that, she’d struggled for years with her self-confidence. Even now, after years of people admiring her beauty publicly, she sometimes still looked in the mirror and saw the pudgy, unattractive girl that Evan Cameron had seen for so many years.

She’d resolved herself to spending another few hours with him in his carriage, then escaping to Cheltham House, hopefully not having to see him again before she returned to London next month. But now they were stranded in Postcombe, and politeness would dictate he dine with her and ensure her comfort at the inn, then break his fast with her in the morning before the additional two-hour—or longer, with snow on the road—drive to her father’s house. Which meant more interaction with him than she thought she could bear.

She took a deep breath. She would bear it. First of all, she had no choice. Secondly, she was no simpering maiden. Not anymore.

It was what it was. Neither of them could control the weather. She would endure this with as good a nature as she could muster.

Evan slipped into the carriage beside her, his frown even deeper than it had been before. He wrestled with the wind over the door, finally gaining control and slamming it shut, before turning to her and saying in a low voice, “They haven’t any rooms.”

Her eyes went wide. “What? Why not?”

“The Duke of Dunsberg and his entourage were on their way to Oxford, and they were caught in the storm as well. They’ve taken all the available rooms.”

“Oh no.”

“The innkeeper did offer us lodgings, however…” Evan continued hesitantly. He took a breath. “It’s not a room so much as a closet. But they’ve an extra bed they can put in there for us.”

“Ah,” she said quietly.

Finally, he met her gaze. “I fear this is our only option. I will sleep on the floor, of course. I would not…er…take advantage of the situation in any way. I give you my word.”

Could this day get any worse? Amelia stifled a groan. She wasn’t worried about Evan not being a gentleman; she was far, far more worried about herself not being a lady. Lord knew what a fool she’d made of herself in his proximity in the past. And the way her body was responding to him…she felt like a giant magnet inexorably drawn to his compelling force. Her skin was prickly and hot, aching all over. And something told her that only his touch could soothe that kind of pain.

 

 

I’ll Be Home for Christmas by Jessica Scott

There’s nothing in the world Army Sergeant Vic Carponti loves more than his wife and his country. Smart-mouthed and easy tempered, he takes everything as a joke . . . except his promise to come home to his wife, Nicole, for Christmas. As he prepares to leave for his latest deployment into Iraq, Vic will do everything he can to shield his beautiful, supportive wife from the realities of war . . . and from his own darkest fears.

As a career army wife, Nicole Carponti knows just what to expect from her husband’s tour of duty: loneliness, relentless worry, and a seemingly endless countdown until the moment Vic walks through the door again. But when the unthinkable happens, Nicole and Vic’s bond is tested like never before and changes everything they believe to be true about the power of love and the simple beauty of being home for the holidays.

   

 USA Today bestselling author Jessica Scott is a career army officer; mother of two daughters, three cats and three dogs; wife to a career NCO and wrangler of all things stuffed and fluffy. She is a terrible cook and even worse housekeeper, but she’s a pretty good shot with her assigned weapon and someone liked some of the stuff she wrote. Somehow, her children are pretty well-adjusted and her husband still loves her, despite burned water and a messy house.

She’s written for the New York Times At War Blog, PBS Point of View: Regarding War Blog, and Iraq and Afghanistan Veterans of America. She deployed to Iraq in 2009 as part of Operation Iraqi Freedom/New Dawn and has served as a company commander at Fort Hood, Texas.

She’s pursuing a PhD in Sociology in her spare time and most recently, she’s been featured as one of Esquire Magazine‘s Americans of the Year for 2012.

WEBSITE        TWITTER

 

Read an excerpt

“You’re not serious.”

Carponti turned around, his shoulders covered in flecks of red hair. “What?”

Nicole grinned as she leaned against the door. “Garrison is going to kill you.”

“Garrison is going to love my new hair cut. It looks just like his.”

Nicole arched one blond eyebrow. “Except for the bright red fuzzy patch in the center of your head.”

Carponti shrugged and rubbed his hands over his freshly shorn scalp. “I can’t wait to see what the sergeant major says.”

“Isn’t he going to be mad?”

Carponti brushed the hair off his neck. “We’re going to war. My hair isn’t on the list of things he’s going to worry about.”

Nicole looked down at the pile of hair on the floor and sighed. “Then why do it?”

Carponti smirked. “Because it’ll get a rise out of him and I live to make his blood pressure go up.”

She laughed. “You need a hobby. Other than blowing things up.”

He sidled across the room and hooked his thumb into the waist of her jeans and tugged her close until their hips met. “I have a hobby. Keeping you well satisfied.”

She sniffed but her lips curled at the edges. “You’re going to be derelict in your duties for a while.”

“But I’ll be home soon enough and then I’ll make up for it.”

“I think I’m going to need a deployment boyfriend.”

He grinned wickedly. “Did you already get one?” He backed her up against the wall, his body hard against hers. God but she loved this man. “Can I see it?”

A slow flush crept over her face and she tried to look away. He threaded his fingers with hers and lifted her arms over her head. Her back arched with the movement.

“Please?” he whispered against her lips. “That would be an awesome memory to take with me downrange. Just think of me, alone in the middle of the desert. One visual of you with your deployment boyfriend and it could make a lonely night go by so much faster.”

Nicole giggled until the laugh overwhelmed her and she was gasping for air. He released her hands and she threaded them around his neck. She buried her face against his throat and laughed.

“There’s something really wrong with you,” she said when she could breathe again. “I’ll send you a video.”

He brightened instantly. “Really?”

“Yes. And dirty letters.”

“Promise?” He nibbled along the edge of her jaw, guiding her slowly backward toward their bed, stacked high with his two duffle bags and all the crap he still hadn’t packed.

But he didn’t care.

“I promise. And you’re going to be late.” Her voice caught in her throat.

“Screw it,” he whispered. “This is the last chance to make love to my beautiful wife before I have to go traipsing across the desert like Lawrence of Arabia.” He nibbled at her earlobe while his hand slipped down her belly to the moist head between her thighs. “Tell you what. You send me a picture of yours and I’ll send you a picture of mine. Maybe I can get him a little horse and saddle and send you a picture. Maybe a Barbie camel. I can put him in a little man dress.”

She laughed and Carponti’s heart swelled in his chest at the sound of it.

“I’m going to hold you to that.” She traced her fingers over his scalp, her body soft and warm against his erection. “I want a picture of him in a man dress in exchange for a video of the deployment boyfriend.”

Her legs bumped into the back of the bed and he followed her down. Tangled between the duffle bags and his uniforms, he made love to her one last time before he got on a plane and headed to war.

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