Author Speed Dating – Kristina Knight

February 28, 2017January 25, 2017 by Dana Nussio

Author Speed Dating(1)

I love discovering new authors, so I wanted my blog to be a place where readers and my author pals could come together. Only we like to do this Speed-Dating style. Check out a new author and her work here every Wednesday, and if the spark is there, you’ll have a match.

This week’s guest: Kristina Knight

Kristi

HARLEQUIN SUPERROMANCE

15 Questions

1. If you were to make an appearance at Comic-Con, which Superhero costume would you be rocking?

Wonder Woman, naturally. (I could really use some super-cool bracelets, and that jet plane would mean no more long lines at the airport!)

2. At which time of day are you more productive as a writer, mornings or nights, and is caffeine a friend or foe?

As long as I have caffeine (ice-cold Coca-Cola, please), I can make any time of day work.

3. George Clooney or Bradley Cooper?

Although a little piece of my heart will always belong to Mr. Clooney, a bigger piece of my heart belongs to Bradley. Cooper all the way!

4. What is your biggest dream as an author?

I would love to someday hit one of the big lists, but, honestly, as long as people enjoy my books, I’m a happy camper!

5. Name a movie you’ve watched countless times but one you’ll still tune in to whenever it’s on cable.

“The Princess Bride.” I can quote it line-for-line, and I get sucked into it every time.

6. How many books have you published and in how many genres and sub-genres?

Thirteen, not counting various bundles of my series or boxed sets that I’ve put a book into. All are contemporary romance, but they run the gamut from cowboys to rockers, a billionaire or three…

7. Love It or List It or Modern Family?

Modern Family – love the banter and all the relationship dynamics. So much fun!

8. What is your favorite way to celebrate after you receive a new book contract or get a great review?

RadioMan and I always go to lunch, and then I pick a new bead for my book-charm-bracelet.

9. What is your best advice for new writers?

Just keep writing. There are experts who swear by this advertising or that blog tour, but the truth is that the next book is the best marketing you can have. So keep writing.

10. Extra-large French fries or a perfect square of dark chocolate?

Tough one! I’m going to go with French fries…mostly because I’m starving right now and that sounds like a good dinner option.

11. Which of your books gave you the most trouble, and what helped you make it to “the end”?

The book I just finished (the first book in my Slippery Rock series, which will be out later this year), took a couple of incarnations, and multiple character revisions…but in the end, I couldn’t be happier with how it turned out.

12. Do you have a music playlist for writing? If so, list some of your go-to artists.

I do! I make new playlists for every book/series. Right now I’ve got a lot of Dierks Bentley and Maren Morris in both of my playlists.

13. Virginia Woolf or Maya Angelou?

Maya. Her poetry is so lyrical, and I can hear her voice in my head as I read.

14. What do you do when you’re in the middle of a book and a new idea pops into your head?

I write it down, stick it in a folder, and get back to the book I’m working on.

15. Were there other authors who helped you along the way on your writer’s journey, and how did they make a difference for you?

My WordWrangler pals, and my local RWA chapter girls are all priceless for a variety of reasons – camaraderie, brainstorming help, butt-in-chair-ing, cheerleading, and picking up the pieces…I love them all.

***

Kristina book

Protecting the Quarterback

By Kristina Knight

“Jonas.” Her quiet voice snapped him back to the parking lot. “Why don’t you not take me home?”

His stomach muscles tightened as the words slipped from her lips in that slow drawl.

“Are you sure?”

She nodded, and he knew he wouldn’t take her home, not just yet.

When he was behind the wheel, Brooks took his hand in hers and turned her face to watch the buildings passing by. The sun was beginning to set when he pulled into the parking lot of the condo where he’d spent the first few years of his contract with the team. Several other players lived there during the season, but the place was mostly a ghost town now. He parked in his designated spot and then somehow they were inside the glass-and-chrome decorated living room.

Memorabilia lined the walls and a low, white couch sat behind a glass-topped coffee table. He cringed. It was too perfect. Too planned out.

Too much like the other times he’d brought a woman here. Maybe he should have taken her to a hotel. There was still time, he could—

“Wow,” she said, drawing her index finger over the smooth surface of a table lined with photographs of him during games or at press conferences. God, he’d been such a schmuck with the decorating of this place. “This is not what I expected.”

“My interior designer has very specific tastes,” he said lamely. Definitely, definitely should have taken her anywhere but this condo.

She presented herself as the girl next door, but there was a little bit of siren in her now, which made his heartbeat kick up a notch. Brooks made her way around the room and he couldn’t take his eyes off her as she moved. Slowly and sinuously. Taking in everything around her. This was a different Brooks than the woman he thought he’d known over the past week. That woman was businesslike most of the time. The moments she let her guard down, like when she talked to the kids without that microphone in tow, though, she was irresistible. Impossible not to watch or wonder about. It was one of those moments that made him ask her out for dinner. That dinner had led them here.

Jonas met her at the kitchen counter, put his hands on her hips and turned her to face him.

“It was a date,” he said and bent his head so he could taste her lips. She was sweet, as he’d imagined so many times over the past few days. She wound her arms around his neck and slanted her mouth, giving him better access to the sweetness that was Brooks. He squeezed his hands around her waist and she shivered. “It was always a date,” he said again and began walking her down the hallway to the bedroom.

***

Protecting the Quarterback, a May 2016 release from Harlequin Superromance, may be purchased from these retailers: Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Harlequin, iBooks and KOBO.

***

About Kristina

Once upon a time, Kristina Knight spent her days running from car crash to fire to meetings with local police–no, she wasn’t a troublemaker, she was a journalist. Her career took her all over the United States, writing about everything from a serial killer’s capture to the National Finals Rodeo. Along the way, she found her very own Knight in Shining Cowboy Boots and an abiding love for romance novels. And just like the characters from her favorite books, she’s living her own happily ever after.

Kristina writes sassy contemporary romance novels; her books have appeared on Kindle Best Seller Lists. Stay in touch with Kristina through her website, www.kristinaknightauthor.com, or through these social media channels: Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest, Goodreads and Google+.

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Author Speed Dating – MK Schiller

February 28, 2017January 18, 2017 by Dana Nussio

Author Speed Dating(1)

This week’s guest: MK Schiller

MK pic

15 Questions

1. If you were to make an appearance at Comic-Con, which Superhero costume would you be rocking?

It would be Wonder Woman. The girl is armed with a truth lasso and killer cuff bracelets. Bonus, she has a jet.

2. At which time of day are you more productive as a writer, mornings or nights, and is caffeine a friend or foe?

I think it really depends on what’s going on. I wish the moments I’m creative are scheduled. I’d say nights win though. Caffeine is a great pal, but red wine is a close friend.

3. George Clooney or Bradley Cooper?

Definitely, Bradley Cooper circa “Limitless” and “Silver Linings Playbook”. He always plays characters that make me laugh and feel.

4. What is your biggest dream as an author?

Well, if we’re dreaming big, I would love to see one of my books on the big screen.

5. Name a movie you’ve watched countless times but one you’ll still tune in to whenever it’s on cable.

“Forest Gump”.

6. How many books have you published and in how many genres and sub-genres?

It’s hard to believe, but 9 books with one on the way. They are all contemporary romances, but range with sub-genres of romantic suspense, new adult, and multicultural romance.

7. Love It or List It or Modern Family?

I’d have to go with Modern Family as it’s one of my family’s favorite shows.

8. What is your favorite way to celebrate after you receive a new book contract or get a great review?

Going out to dinner with my family and announcing it at our monthly Greater Detroit Romance Writers of America meeting.

9. What is your best advice for new writers?

Be encouraged by all praise and heed the criticism to help you become a better writer. But…do not let either define you.

10. Extra-large French fries or a perfect square of dark chocolate?

Chocolate every time, all of the time. Now, if we could make deep fried chocolate French fries, that would be something.

11. Which of your books gave you the most trouble, and what helped you make it to “the end”?

I struggled with the conflict and black moment in Where the Lotus Flowers Grow. It was almost too dark, especially for me. But in the end, I kept it because the whole theme of the book is that love can bloom in any dark corner. Just like the Lotus Flower.

12. Do you have a music playlist for writing? If so, list some of your go-to artists.

Absolutely. In fact, every book has a playlist and artists that helped me get through it. I love Indie artists like Hugo to classics like James Taylor. My playlist is super eclectic and frenzied just like my characters.

13.Virginia Woolf or Maya Angelou?

I’ve read both and enjoyed them, but I’d have to go with Maya Angelou. I read I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings in high school and it really resonated with me. After all, the beautiful heroine used literature to make her stronger in the face of severe trauma.

14. What do you do when you’re in the middle of a book and a new idea pops into your head?

I turn my head and mutter, “squirrel.” It depends if I’m under contract, but I might start writing the new book if the idea makes my fingers twitch enough.

15. Were there other authors who helped you along the way on your writer’s journey, and how did they make a difference for you?

There are too many to name. I was inspired by amazing authors I had read, but also by those who I had met through my local writing group from our knowledgeable speakers to our members. These brave and lovely authors helped pave my writing journey.

***

MK Cover

Where the Lotus Flowers Grow

By MK Schiller

Steam from the bathroom swathed him as he stepped out, a towel looped low around his hips. His naked chest, revealed muscles chiseled to perfection. I’d seen him when he arrived, but I wasn’t paying attention. And now my attention would not go anywhere else. His damp hair, the color a mix of sun with flecks of sand, lay unruly against his head. His expression conveyed annoyance. I pivoted, my bum backing into the bureau. He narrowed his eyes. Green eyes? Brown? They were both.

They were neither.

“I’m waiting for an answer.”

My fingers clutched the book, digging into the hardback cover, holding it against my chest as if it could shield me from his voice, deep and husky. I shrank back farther, praying the floor would quake open and swallow me up.

His eyes shifted to my hands. He blinked, staring at the book. As much as my eyes were absorbing, my mouth refused to work. What could I possibly say to him? There were no excuses. I’d trespassed and, as a result, I’d be sacked.

“I’ve frightened you,” he said, his voice a shade softer. He held up his hand. “Wait.”

He picked up a few articles of clothing from the open suitcase on the bed, then looked back at me. “Stay.” He closed the bathroom door behind him, disappearing into the diminishing poufs of steam.

I should run. But my feet were stuck to the floor, even though my legs were shaking. For once, I was grateful the sari would hide that.

When he came out a few minutes later, he wore soft, faded jeans and a green rugby shirt. He stood a few feet away, but I could smell fresh soap and sweet mint radiating from his body.

He slapped his chest three times. “My name is Liam Montgomery.”

I continued to stare, dumbfounded. Was he introducing himself to me as if we lived on the same plane? I had found comfort in being a maid because the attention paid to me was on par with my paycheck. That was my preference. My choice. Perhaps a penance in a way. But now…I had all his attention and no idea what to do with it. He sighed, shaking his head with disappointment. “Lotus Girl, why would you pick up a book you can’t read?”

Lotus girl? Was he talking to me?

“Let’s try this again. Mera Nam, Liam Montgomery,” he said in poorly pronounced Hindi.

“You don’t speak Hindi either?” When I didn’t respond, he picked up his phone and pressed a few buttons. “So many languages in this country. Rest assured, I’ll find yours.”

As if rest were a possibility.

“Ah, here we are.” He repeated the introduction in Punjabi, Gujarthi, Marthati, Tamil, Bangali, and even Sanskrit. Each time, he looked at me with a hopeful expression. With my continued silence, he grew more disappointed. Somehow, his desperation to talk with me made the tension dissipate just as the steam had. Finally, he threw his phone on the bed.

He shook his head in resignation, offering me a self-deprecating smile.

“That’s all I got. I suppose we shall never speak.” He stared at the book again. I held it out to him with both hands. He stepped closer, his bare feet oddly beautiful. Later, I would wonder why I didn’t just lay the book back on the bureau. His hands, large with long fingers, gripped the other edge and stilled the wobbling tome. I tilted my chin, forcing myself to look at his face. I knew I’d regret the moment if I chose to…squint.

He nodded toward the book, but kept us at a distance. “It’s a shame, really. This is my favorite Dickens’s novel. It’s almost an autobiography.”

He tugged on it. I wouldn’t let go.

He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Why the hell I’m still talking to you when you can’t bloody-well respond, I have no idea.” He gestured to the door. “Either it’s heatstroke, or I’m going mad.”

“You’re wrong.”

He swallowed, his eyes widening. “I’m not going mad?”

“It’s not an autobiography. Dickens said his most autobiographical book was David Copperfield. Not Nicholas Nickleby.” I thought I’d said it in my head, but the way his jaw dropped made it clear I’d articulated the statement.

Liam smiled again, his expression a mixture of curiosity and suspicion.

“She speaks. And what interesting things she has to say.”

***

Where the Lotus Flowers Grow, a September 2016 release from Lyrical Shine, an imprint from Kensington Publishing, may be purchased from these retailers: Amazon, Barnes & Noble and Books-A-Million.

***

About MK

MK Schiller was born a hopeless romantic in a hopelessly pragmatic world. She has a full-time life and two busy teenagers, but in the dark of night, she sits by the warm glow of her computer monitor and attempts to conjure up passionate heartwarming stories with plenty of humor. She hopes you enjoy her stories and always find The Happily Ever After in every endeavor.

Stay in touch with MK through her website, www.mkschillerauthor.com, her Facebook author page and Facebook profile, her Amazon Author Page, Twitter and Goodreads.

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Author Speed Dating – Janet Lee Nye

February 28, 2017December 28, 2016 by Dana Nussio

Author Speed Dating(1)

This week’s guest: Janet Lee Nye

Janet pic

HarlequinSuperromance2

15 Questions

1. Which character in “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer” is your favorite, and what does that say about you?

Bumble, post dental surgery, all roar, no bite. Tall and can reach things.

2. What are some of things you do to work your way through a plot problem?

See above, roar a lot. Boring answer: on the treadmill.

3. Name your favorite author who writes in a genre that you never write.

Neil Gaiman.

4. Cherry cordials or candy canes?

Candy canes, licked down to a dangerously sharp point.

5. How many full manuscripts did you have to write before you were first published?

Oh, lordy. [*pulls off socks so I can use toes for this count*] If I count all the times I took an existing manuscript and rewrote it (change a romantic suspense into a contemporary), the total is six. [*puts socks back on*]

6. In 10 words or less, give your best tip for aspiring authors.

The closer you get, the bigger the disappointments. Don’t quit.

7. Lifetime Christmas movies. Yea or nay?

Nay.

8. What was the lowest point in your writing career, and how did you recover from it?

2014. I missed being a finalist in the Golden Hearts by one point, and there were only two finalists in my category. I was considering quitting but went to RWA Nationals and my tribe kicked my butt back into the game. [Note from Dana: The Golden Heart Award, sponsored by Romance Writers of America, is the premier contest for unpublished romance writers.]

9. Are you traditionally published, self-published or a “hybrid” author, and why did you choose that path?

Traditionally published. Mostly because I’m not computer or marketing savvy enough to properly self-publish.

10. “O Holy Night” (Josh Groban version) or “White Christmas” (Bing Crosby version)?

I’m more of a “Holly Jolly Christmas” kind of girl.

11. Which character from one of your own books do you wish you were more like?

I think I’d have to say Lena Reyes, Sadie’s best friend in Spying on the Boss. She has her own book coming out in April. She is strong, smart, sassy and fierce when it comes to family and friends.

12. What is your strategy for writing over the holidays?

Depends. I’m a nurse, so I work on holidays. If I’m not working at the hospital, I may squeeze in a few words. We aren’t big party people so our holidays tend to be rather low-key.

13. Of all the delightful treats available during the holiday season, which one would you prefer to hide in a closet so you don’t have to share it with anyone?

Peppermint bark.

14. Do you belong to a critique group, and how has that membership affected your writing?

No. I was part of a writer’s group many years ago, but I was the only romance writer there, so I felt pushed to be “literary”, and it hurt my writing. Now, I have my Fella give me feedback (he is a writer also).

15. What is your usual New Year’s Resolution, and how quickly do you usually break it?

Which one? Go to the gym at least four times a week? Drink more water? Eat more healthfully? Start dressing like a grown up? Don’t wear pajamas all day?

***

Boss on Notice

By Janet Lee Nye

“Hey, neighbor,” Josh called.

She tried not to look, but how could she not? He was too good looking. That black curly hair and the blue eyes. His shoulders, his chest, his arms…he was built but he didn’t try to show it off by wearing a shirt two sizes too small for his body. She bit her bottom lip, felt it slip back into her mouth as she watched him. Those jeans. Levi’s. Straight forward working man’s jeans. Nothing fancy. She felt warm in all the wrong places.

“Hi,” she said.

Short, sweet, to the point. Get out of here before he offers you a ride. She pushed the stroller but he met her at the sidewalk. He squatted to look at Ian.

“Hey, little man. What big adventure are you off to today? Going to break in to a few more houses?”

“Go! Go! Go!” Ian shouted back.

“Sounds like a plan.”

“Sorry,” she said. “Shouting seems to be the only volume he has these days.”

He stood and smiled at her. “You guys always seem to be on the go.”

“Yep. That’s us. Busy, busy, busy.”

He looked at her. Then at the duffels. Then at the street. He rubbed his jaw, the stubble there making a faint scratching noise that went straight through her. She squared her shoulders.

“Yeah. I should get back to work.”

Work. Whoa. Wait. What was it that lady had told her on the phone? He was here setting up a cleaning business. She could clean.

“You’re hiring?”

He gave her a look. A half smile. “Yeah, but…”

“Can I apply? I don’t have any experience other than cleaning my own house. But I’m a fast learner. And I’m not afraid of hard work.”

“Mickie,” he said, cutting off her babble.

“What?”

“We are an all-male cleaning company. That’s our gimmick. Good looking guys cleaning your house.”

“Oh.” She was too disappointed to say anything else.

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay. Nothing ventured and all. Well, I should get going.”

She could feel him watching her as she navigated down the sidewalk to the street. All male. Weren’t there, like, discrimination laws about stuff like that? She tried to get angry about it but she couldn’t seem to think around the echoes of the scrape of his fingers against the stubble. Her own fingers twitched on the stroller handles. She’d like to run a finger over that stubble.

*******

Boss on Notice, an installment in The Cleaning Crew miniseries, may be purchased through these retailers: Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Harlequin and Books-A-Million.

***

About Janet

Janet Lee Nye is a writer by day and a neonatal nurse by night. She lives in Charleston, SC, with her fella and her felines. She spends too much time on Twitter and too little time on housework and has no plans to remedy this.

Stay in touch with Janet through her website, www.janetleenye.com or through these social-media channels: Facebook and Twitter. Learn more about Janet and her fellow Harlequin Superromance authors on the Superromance Facebook Page or the Superromance Authors Blog, www.superauthors.com.

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Author Speed Dating – Donna Alward

February 28, 2017December 7, 2016 by Dana Nussio

Author Speed Dating(1)

This week’s guest: Donna Alward

Donna Alward pic

15 Questions

1. Which character in “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer” is your favorite, and what does that say about you?

Mrs. Claus. Because I feed people. “Eat. Eat. EAT.”

2. What are some of things you do to work your way through a plot problem?

Walk away and let my brain come up with it when I’m thinking about something else. Or I nag my inner circle, disregard their ideas, and go with my own anyway.

3. Name your favorite author who writes in a genre that you never write.

More than one…but Jennifer Robson, Mary Balogh, Suzie Enoch, Julie Ann Long. LOVE historical romance, particularly WWI and WWII and Regencies.

4. Cherry cordials or candy canes?

Candy Canes.

5. How many full manuscripts did you have to write before you were first published?

Nine – I sold my 10^th.

6. In 10 words or less, give your best tip for aspiring authors.

Write, write, write, and take time to learn your craft.

7. Lifetime Christmas movies. Yea or nay?

Sometimes yes. But only if I feel like weeping.

8. What was the lowest point in your writing career, and how did you recover from it?

Being unable to write due to depression. I figured out I needed to get better first and hoped my creativity would rebound. It did. 🙂 But it was a rough 2 years.

9. Are you traditionally published, self-published or a “hybrid” author, and why did you choose that path?

Mostly traditional. I forgave myself for not enjoying the indie process and haven’t looked back. People have to do what’s right for them and what keeps them inspired and fulfilled.

10. “O Holy Night” (Josh Groban version) or “White Christmas” (Bing Crosby version)?

“White Christmas”. I love Josh, but classic Bing…the only thing better is Nat King Cole’s “The Christmas Song”.

11. Which character from one of your own books do you wish you were more like?

Willow from Someone To Love (coming in March). She’s so zen. Plus way more bendy than I am (yoga).

12. What is your strategy for writing over the holidays?

Not to. 🙂

13. Of all the delightful treats available during the holiday season, which one would you prefer to hide in a closet so you don’t have to share it with anyone?

My mother-in-law’s fruitcake. I know! Fruitcake? But it’s soooo good.

14. Do you belong to a critique group, and how has that membership affected your writing?

Not a crit group per se, but a small group of writers. My writing and my life are so much richer for having them be a part of it.

15. What is your usual New Year’s Resolution, and how quickly do you usually break it?

I gave up on resolutions. I can only promise to do better so many times before I just think…never mind. Carry on and do the best you can. 🙂

***

MustBeChristmas

It Must Be Christmas

“Christmas at Seashell Cottage”

By Donna Alward

Charlie Yang had never considered herself much of a joiner. So it went without saying that she was surprised to find herself in the middle of setting up a nativity scene in front of the Jewell Cove church, stuffing scratchy straw into a crudely constructed manger. They’d had an early snow, and the layer of white covering the ground and the branches of trees and shrubbery added to the feeling of holiday spirit that had taken over since Thanksgiving.

Like a well-oiled machine, Gloria Henderson and her army of church ladies had taken charge of the volunteers and had assigned jobs to everyone. The men were tasked with anything requiring a ladder and heavy lifting—including lugging three wise men, Mary and Joseph, the shepherds and sheep and every last bit of the nativity to the front yard. Right now Bill—Charlie had forgotten his last name—from the service station was positioning the figures in the proper places, which were the exact same spots they occupied each and every year, apparently. Charlie gave a dry chuckle. You could always count on small towns, and Jewell Cove, Maine, was no different. It was practically steeped in saltwater traditions.

Still, it stung a little that the committee had taken one look at Charlie’s attempt at the red-and-green velvet bows and suggested she might be better suited to helping with something else. She was a doctor, for heaven’s sake. She could suture a wound and leave barely a trace of a scar. Surely her bows weren’t that bad . . .

She’d been sent off to the front of the church with specific instructions: set up the manger, uncoil and string the lights, and put Baby Jesus in place. Charlie huffed. She’d been number three in her graduating class from med school. She could set up a nativity scene with one hand tied behind her back. She shivered against the cold, zipped her puffy jacket up the last three inches, and wished she’d thought to wear a hat to keep her ears warm.

“Manger, check.” She wrestled the wooden structure into position by inches until it was in the middle of the nativity. “Straw, check.” She took off her gloves for a minute and padded the bottom of the manger with a small brick of synthetic straw, pulling the pieces apart and fluffing them up. As soon as it was done, she hurried to put her gloves back on. “Now for Baby Jesus.” Charlie looked around at the boxes of Christmas decorations that surrounded her. “Aha! Baby Jesus, check!” She retrieved a doll from a box, already wrapped and safety-pinned into swaddling clothes, and stared down at the straw padding the bottom of the crude manger. “This doesn’t feel right,” she murmured to the doll, whose eyes were closed. She looked in the box for a blanket or fabric of some sort. “I can’t just put you down on the prickly straw. Surely the new Messiah deserves something softer to lie on.”

After a few minutes of digging through the boxes for something that might suit, Charlie sighed. “Well, Baby Jesus, we’ll just have to wait to put you in your manger until I can think of something to use to cover the straw. Until then, I need to get these lights untangled.”

She sat down on the cold, wooden platform the church had set up to house the nativity scene. It was a lonely, solitary task and she found herself carrying on a one-way conversation with the doll just to break the silence. “I have skills, Baby Jesus. Specific skills. Skills that I should be using right now with my patients. Not sitting in the cold unraveling tangled lights.” She sighed in frustration.

God, she was talking to a doll. A doll who was, at this moment, staring at her with unseeing, unblinking eyes. It was a little bit creepy, so she turned her attention back to the task at hand, working away at a stubborn knot, muttering to herself. Once again the gloves came off; there was no way she could straighten the knotted wires with the material in the way. She blew on her fingers and started again.

“You know,” she continued, “when I agreed to help out, I’d thought it would be a good chance be a part of the community. Outside of work, I mean. And . . . here I am alone. As usual.”

Charlie cursed under her breath as the knot let go only to reveal another. A burst of laughter drew her attention away for a moment, and she watched as a couple strolled along the sidewalk holding hands.

“Wanna hear something stupid, Baby Jesus? The closest thing to a romantic relationship I have right now is an infatuation with the man who works on the docks. You know?” She paused, studying the glassy eyes of the doll next to her. “Of course you don’t know. You’re a doll. And the Savior of all mankind, right? You have bigger fish to fry than my nonexistent love life.” She laughed to herself. “I’m pathetic. But let me tell you, that man is hot. Tall, dark, and rugged.” In her mind she could picture the look of him, long legs and broad shoulders, his strength evident even beneath work pants and the navy jacket he typically wore. She sighed. “I don’t even know his name. How dumb is that?”

“Um, excuse me, but who are you talking to?”

She jumped at the sound of a deep voice behind her, a muted squeak bursting from her mouth, then spun around to find a giant of a man standing there, feet planted, arms crossed, and an amused expression on his face. Not just any man. The man.

Her cheeks flamed with embarrassment. “Baby Jesus?” she suggested weakly. Busted talking to a doll. She felt about three years old.

He chuckled. “Really?” He nodded at the bundle in her arms. “What were you going to do? Brain me with him?”

What? It took a few seconds before she realized that she’d grabbed the doll like a weapon and was currently holding it like she was a quarterback ready to go long. Charlie looked down at the doll’s face and then tucked it more securely in her arms. “You startled me, that’s all,” she replied, emitting a breathy laugh. Holy crap. From afar he’d looked big, but her dream guy was over six feet for sure, probably closer to six four, big feet in big boots, faded jeans, and one of those plaid quilted jackets she’d seen a lot of the men around here wear when the weather was cold but not downright frigid. His arms were crossed, and the stance accentuated the muscles in his arms and shoulders. His hair was thick and dark, highlighting a face that sported a stunning set of brown eyes with long lashes, a strong jaw, and good cheekbones.

“I’m Charlene,” she offered, only stammering a little, holding the doll in one arm and extending her other hand. “Charlie, actually.”

***

The It Must Be Christmas anthology may be purchased from these retailers: Amazon, Barnes & Noble and Books-A-Million. The novella, “Christmas at Seaside Cottage”, is also available individually through these retailers: Amazon, Barnes and Noble, iTunes and Kobo.

***

About Donna

While bestselling author Donna Alward was busy studying Austen, Eliot and Shakespeare, she was also losing herself in the breathtaking stories created by romance novelists like LaVyrle Spencer, Judith McNaught and Nora Roberts. Several years after completing her degree she decided to write a romance of her own and it was true love! Five years and ten manuscripts later she sold her first book and launched a new career. While her heartwarming stories of love, hope, and homecoming have been translated into several languages, hit bestseller lists and won awards, her very favorite thing is when she hears from happy readers.

Donna lives on Canada’s east coast with her family which includes a husband, a couple of kids, a senior dog and two crazy cats. When she’s not writing, she enjoys reading (of course!), knitting, gardening, cooking…and is a Masterpiece Theater addict. You can connect with her through her website, www.DonnaAlward.com, or on Facebook or Twitter. Join her mailing list here.

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Author Speed Dating – Tara Taylor Quinn

February 28, 2017November 30, 2016 by Dana Nussio

Author Speed Dating(1)

This week’s guest: Tara Taylor Quinn

Tara_headshot

CONTEMPORARY ROMANCE

15 Questions

1. If you were a My Little Pony character, what image would be tatooed on your butt?

A heart.

2. What was genre of the first piece you can remember writing, and how old were you when you penned this masterpiece?

I was six. I still have it! It was published in a little school publication. I’d written about a monster breaking into our house and my mom and I told my dad to go back to bed. We’d take care of it. As an adult I can only imagine how that made my father feel!

3. Since all of November authors are Americans, name some dishes that are must-haves for your Thanksgiving dinner.

Scalloped corn – my recipe. Dressing. Waldorf Salad.

4. If you could write a novel containing any generally “off-limits” element, what would we find in your story?

Wow – you’ve stumped me on this one. I have written everything from prostitution to white supremacy. I’m known for tackling tough subjects and I can’t think of any I’ve needed to write about that I haven’t done.

5. Project Runway or Designated Survivor?

No clue. I’m not familiar with either! The only television I watch is Netflix. TV ads make me nuts.

6. Is social media a bad habit for you, and, if so, what is your favorite time drain?

Social media is a job for me. My current favorite time drain is Toy Blast – it’s a game similar to Candy Crush, but I like it much better! I don’t play it on the computer though. Don’t even download it. Computer is for work!

7. With no money limit, if you could construct the most perfect writing space, what would it look like?

It would have a wall of windows looking out over my beautiful Arizona mountains and into the city. I’d have a wall of bookcases behind me. A bathroom off the far corner, lush carpet for my fur babies, a doggy door, a couch beneath the windows and tables with all of my feel goods. To my left would be a wall for my bulletin boards. It would have a privately keyed door and have a perfect surround sound system with Bose speakers. There would be a door to a waterfall garden just outside.

8. Sushi or pepperoni pizza with extra cheese?

Neither! My pizza would have ham, tomato, and onions.

9. What book are you reading right now, and what is the best book you’ve read in a long time?

The only book I’m reading right now is the one I’m working on. With seven books out this year, I don’t have time for pleasure reading. I don’t want to risk incorporating another ‘voice’ or ‘feel’ into my own writing.

10. How many full and partial manuscripts remain in your never-published collection?

I have no idea! Sort of none. I’m sure I have partials that didn’t become books (I can think of one off the top of my head) but I re-worked the idea and it became a book. I’ve been published, non-stop for twenty-four years so we’re talking a long time ago. I’d have to go out in the shed and open boxes to properly answer this question!

11. Bob Dylan or Dylan Thomas?

I don’t know Dylan Thomas, but I am not a Bob Dylan fan! I know, so horrible, especially considering that he just won the Nobel Peace prize. I am a ‘tune’ woman, and in my opinion he doesn’t carry one. I also couldn’t stand his ‘Lay Lady Lay.’ I thought it was degrading to women. But then, I was a kid listening to the song coming from my older brother’s room when I formed that opinion!

12. Name your favorite hero or heroine from one of your books, and share what made that character special.

Oh my word. This is just hard. I have 80 books! How do you choose? I think I can’t. I think of one and then think of another and feel disloyal to both of them. They’re all so unique and I care for them all. Deeply. So…there’s your answer. Sorry! If I had to recommend a series, I’d recommend Where Secrets Are Safe. Partially because I’m writing a book from that series right now. But I think it’s maybe my best work to date. It’s critically acclaimed and I think it has done more than any of my other books to help women find hope and believe that happiness exists.

13. Who was the first person – besides your mom and dad – who told you that you could write?

Me! I didn’t ask anyone. I just knew I was a writer. I told my Mom I was a writer before she told me I could write. I’ve been telling myself stories since I was just a little kid and was keeping journals, with prose and poetry before I was in high school.

14. Dogs or cats? Pedigree or mutts?

Both. I have a very prissy, registered and show quality prima donna teacup poodle and a rescue cocker/poodle mix who are very close to each other and are my best friends. Literally. We spend all of our days alone together. We each bring something to the mix and I hope we’re all three blessed by it! I know I am.

15. What is your favorite point while you are writing a new story?

When I slip so deeply in that I become a part of that life and I don’t want to leave.

***

Her Soldier’s Baby

By Tara Taylor Quinn

Some nights he woke up in a cold sweat and still couldn’t believe that Eliza Maxwell was his wife. He’d lie there, touching her shoulder, looking at her sometimes for more than an hour, to avoid going back to sleep. When he slept, she was, like the rest of his few good childhood memories, completely out of reach.

***

Her Soldier’s Baby may be purchased through these online retailers: Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Google, Harlequin and iTunes.

***

About Tara

Having written over eighty novels, Tara Taylor Quinn is a USA TODAY bestselling author with more than seven million copies sold. She is known for delivering intense, emotional fiction. Tara is a past president of Romance Writers of America. She has won a Readers’ Choice Award and is a five-time finalist for an RWA RITA^® Award, a finalist for a Reviewers’ Choice Award and a Booksellers’ Best Award. She has also appeared on TV across the country, including CBS Sunday Morning. She supports the National Domestic Violence Hotline. If you or someone you know might be a victim of domestic violence in the United States, please contact 1-800-799-7233.

Stay in touch with Tara through her website, www.tarataylorquinn.com, or through these social media channels: Facebook, GoodReads, Instagram, Twitter, Pinterest or on her Pinterest Friendship board.

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Author Speed Dating – Jane Porter

November 2, 2016 by Dana Nussio

Author Speed Dating(1)

I love discovering new authors, so I wanted to my blog to be a place where readers and my author pals could come together. Only we like to do this Speed-Dating style. Check out a new author and her work here every Wednesday, and if the spark is there, you’ll have a match.

This week’s guest: Jane Porter

Jane Porter photo

Contemp_ Jane

15 Questions

1. If you were a My Little Pony character, what image would be tatooed on your butt?

As a mom of three sons I know nothing about My Little Pony…couldn’t even identify one if I tried, so I’d better default to Transformers and pick Optimus Prime to wear proudly (?) on my butt.

2. What was the genre of the first piece you can remember writing, and how old were you when you penned this masterpiece?

It was a short story called “The Christmas Elf”. I wrote it in Kindergarten, and then in 2^nd Grade I wrote an Oz story to continue Frank Baum’s series, and then in 4^th grade it was a knock off of Little Women. That masterpiece was 78 pages long.

3. Since all of November authors are Americans, name some dishes that are must-haves for your Thanksgiving dinner.

Turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes, and gravy. Sweet potatoes. Cranberry salad with chopped apples, pecans and marshmallows. Green salad. And lots and lots of pumpkin pie.

4. If you could write a novel containing any generally “off-limits” element, what would we find in your story?

I don’t think I would. Or, I’m doing it now, writing what I love to write: contemporay romance, historical romance, and a blurred mix of women’s fiction/contemporary romance.

5. Project Runway or Designated Survivor?

Project Runway all the way!

6. Is social media a bad habit for you, and, if so, what is your favorite time drain?

Not that bad. I do it, but I do it so that it feels like me, and I love my readers and friends and try to keep the focus on the relationship and our mutual love of books and being a community of women, versus selling stuff to people. I don’t write to sell books. I write so that I get read. I love story and want readers to love my stories.

7. With no money limit, if you could construct the most perfect writing space, what would it look like?

I actually can’t make it too nice or I wouldn’t work. So it has to have 1) lots of natural light 2) a big work space 3) fun colorful pink and orange lights 3) scented candles, and painted rocks from my sons, and other little momentos and treasures I swap in and out to keep me connected when I’m in a creative panic and sure I will never survive the writing process and that my life is over as I know it 4) place for my all my reference books and research.

8. Sushi or pepperoni pizza with extra cheese?

Please. Please…..(I love food.)

9. What book are you reading right now, and what is the best book you’ve read in a long time?

Besides reading through the entire Magic Tree House series with son #3, after having read 40 some Box Car Kids to same son? I’m ready to dive into Teresa Medeiros’s new historical, which is my fav fan genre…love historical romance so much!

10. How many full and partial manuscripts remain in your never-published collection?

Fourteen full manuscripts remain un-pubbed.

11. Bob Dylan or Dylan Thomas?

Dylan Thomas.

12. Name your favorite hero or heroine from one of your books, and share what made that character special.

Shane Swan. He was an outsider since birth, raised by his grandmother until she died, resulting in him entering the foster-care system when he was four. Despite his difficult childhood, he grew up to become one of the most successful writers in America.

13. Who was the first person – besides your mom and dad – who told you that you could write?

Probably a teacher. Or my friends in 2^nd grade as I used to write stories to entertain them with.

14. Dogs or cats? Pedigree or mutts?

Labs, Cocker Spaniels, bulldogs, sheepdogs….

15. What is your favorite point while you are writing a new story?

Reaching the end. The relief of finally nailing a challenging story closed.

***

The Lost Sheenan’s Bride

By Jane Porter

“Can I join you?”

The deep voice was paired with denim clad legs and heavy, black boots.

Jet jerked her head up. Heart pounding, face hot, she looked into dark eyes.

Him. It was him.

“There are no open tables.”

Her mouth opened, shut. “Sure.” She choked, hands trembling ever so slightly as she gathered her papers and pulling her laptop closer, giving him space.

“You’re fine,” he said, setting his leather backpack on top of the empty chair. “Don’t move your stuff.”

“It’s okay. I don’t need—” She broke off, swallowing the words, since he’d walked away, returning to the counter to collect his order.

Blushing furiously, she forced her attention to the paper in front of her. She felt stupid and gauche and she wished she could disappear, and she kept her head down even as he placed the bagel and tea on the table and drew his chair back.

Focus, focus, focus.

“I’m Shane,” he said, taking a seat.

Shane. Not the Shane…the one renting the Sheenan house…the one that had everyone talking?

“Jet,” she replied, extending her hand, amazed at how calm she sounded because on the inside she wasn’t calm.

On the inside she felt positively wild.

His hand closed around hers. One black eyebrow lifted. “Jet?”

His grip was firm, his skin warm, and she felt a little tingle all the way through her. “It’s Dutch.”

“You’re the first Jet I’ve ever met.”

“Then you need to go to Holland. It’s a popular name.”

“Are you Dutch?”

“Both sets of grandparents emigrated from Holland, some before WWII, and some after.” Handshake over she slid her hand beneath her leg, trying to ignore all the crazy butterflies filling her middle, making her resent him for turning her into a gum-smacking teenager who couldn’t handle herself.

“Did your parents speak Dutch at home?”

“To their parents, yes, but only a little bit with us kids. But our grandparents would only speak Dutch to us, which proved useful when I was traveling this year.”

He nodded at the stack of papers in front of her. “You’re a teacher.”

She grimaced. “It’s that obvious?”

“You’re always grading papers.” He paused. “Which grade?”

“All grades, K-8.” So he’d noticed her before. Another shiver coursed through her. “I’m a long-term sub,” she added, “at a one room schoolhouse in Paradise Valley. And you? What do you do? I always see you with a stack of books and papers.”

“I’m a writer.”

He had to be the Shane Swan renting the old Sheenan homestead then. She sat up a little taller, aware that the Sheenans were not happy he was in their home, but she didn’t know why.

She’d like to know, though. “What kind of writing?”

“Nonfiction.”

“That’s a pretty broad subject area. You can squeeze a lot into that…biographies. History. Crime. War.”

“Exactly.”

“And so you write…?”

“History, crime, war.”

Her eyebrows arched. “Pretty dark stuff.”

“Can be. My job is to try to make it personal. Make people care.”

“And do you?”

He laughed, flashing white teeth. “Sometimes.”

“Have you been published?”

He hesitated. “I should have something out next year.”

“That’s great. Congratulations. I’ll have to look for it. I like nonfiction. That’s kind of my thing to read.”

“Oh, yeah? Any favorite authors?”

“Jon Krakauer… Sean Finley… too many to name them all.”

For a moment there was a flicker in his eyes and then it was gone. His expression turned thoughtful. “Which Sean Finley?”

She frowned, thinking. “I’ve read virtually everything by Finley, but my favorite is probably the first one I read by him, the one on Custer’s last stand. Heartbreak & Heaven.”

“Why?”

“It was brutal. Sad. But really powerful. It’s like reading about the Alamo. You know what’s going to happen ahead of time, but the details in the retelling brought it to life and made the massacre that much more painful.”

His mouth curved, and yet his dark eyes held hers, intent. “So you are Team Custer.”

“No. More like Team Crazy Horse, but I feel for Custer. I do. He was foolishly brave and I had to respect him even though I didn’t want to. The whole thing was tragic.”

“He was in over his head.”

“But I think most people are! I think most of us learn on the job…and we just kind of hope no one knows that we’re wildly underprepared.”

His smile widened. “Are you speaking from personal experience?”

Jet grimaced. “I might be in a little over my head at the school, but I can promise you that no one will die on my watch.”

“That’s good.”

A table was suddenly open across the café by the bay window. Jet watched Shane’s face. He was going to head over there and grab the now empty table.

Her heart fell a little. It was absurd. She was absurd. There was no reason to like this man so much. She still knew virtually nothing about him. “I can watch your stuff if you want to claim it,” she said.

He turned to look at her, amusement in his dark eyes. “I’ve worn out my welcome already?”

For a second she couldn’t think or breathe, too lost in his dark eyes. He was really ridiculously good-looking. Too good-looking. She didn’t like feeling so shallow.

“I just know you like your space,” she said, and then blushed as one of his black brows lifted. “I mean, you never talk to anyone,” she added quickly, “you just work.”

He leaned forward, elbows on the table, biceps bunching beneath the smooth fabric of his gray Henley. “Is that why you never said hello?”

For a long moment she couldn’t think of anything to say. “I’ve kind of sworn off men.”

He looked at her, waiting.

She hurriedly added, “Not forever, obviously, but for awhile. Just until I have my confidence back.”

“So it’s not my tattoos. I thought maybe you weren’t a fan.”

Jet’s cheeks burned hotter. A dozen different emotions swamped her. But being the youngest in a big family had taught her some basic survival skills, and so she held his gaze, and kept her chin up. “I think you know you’re…appealing.”

He stared right back into her eyes for what felt like endless seconds before he lifted his cup, and took a sip, all without breaking eye contact. “I think you have plenty of confidence. You just need a little nudge.”

Her breath caught in her throat. Her heart thumped. Tattoos and muscles and long, dark, wavy hair and ass-kicker boots…

Jet swallowed hard.

The black eyebrow lifted quizzically. He set the cup back down. “So what happened? Who stomped on your heart?”

Jet wished the floor would open up and swallow her whole. But it didn’t. And Shane just watched her and waited for a response as if he had all day.

The silence stretched. Her heart thumped harder. Clearly he had all day.

“He’s not important,” she finally managed, struggling to sound careless and not at all sure she pulled it off.

“He must be if you’ve sworn off men.”

“Maybe I am a little banged up.” And then, dammit, her eyes filled with tears and she looked away and blinked hard and cursed him for making her cry.

She was so sick of being sad. So sick of being hurt. Ben McAllister wasn’t worth it. He wasn’t. She should be over him by now. But kind of hard to be over someone she loved deeply…

She swallowed hard and forced her attention to Shane. She looked him in the eyes. “Hearts get broken all the time. I’ll be fine.”

“Yes, you will.” He smiled then, but the smile was kind.

Reaching into his leather satchel he pulled out a card. He placed it on the table between them before beginning to gather his things. “Should you ever want to get a cup of coffee, or talk books, or teaching—I used to be a high school history teacher—call me.”

Jet watched him walk away, and take the still empty table by the bay window. He put down his tea and pulled out his laptop.

She turned to look at the business card he’d left on the table.

Sean S. Finley

Writer.

***

The Lost Sheenan’s Bride is available for purchase from these online retailers: Amazon Kindle | B&N Nook | iBooks | Google Play.

***

About Jane

Jane Porter, the NYT and USA Today bestselling author of 50 romances and 11 women’s fiction novels, holds an MA in Writing from the University of San Francisco and has been a finalist for the prestigious RITA award five times, with her novella, Take Me, Cowboy, winning the Novella Category July 2014. Jane’s wildly popular novel, Flirting with Forty, was made into a Lifetime movie starring Heather Locklear and was loosely inspired by her husband, Ty Gurney, an Oahu resident with his own surf school in Waikiki. An advocate for writers, Jane founded Tule Publishing in 2013 to give romance and women’s fiction authors support and opportunities. For more info, visit www.janeporter.com.

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Author Speed Dating – Kris Fletcher

October 26, 2016 by Dana Nussio

Author Speed Dating(1)

This week’s guest: Kris Fletcher

Kris Fletcher pic

CONTEMPORARY ROMANCE

15 Questions

1. Ferrari or Ford F-150?

These would be vehicles, correct?

2. What is your biggest fear as you are writing a story?

Earthquakes, volcanoes, the dead rising from the grave, cats and dogs living together.

3. Name a TV you have either binge-watched or own on DVD.

Galavant. (I believe in you, Tad Cooper! I super believe!)

4. What is the one thing you wish someone else had told you before you published your first book?

Sleep while you can.

5. Rolling Stones or Florida Georgia Line?

I’m more of an Arrogant Worms girl myself.

6. Name the most embarrassing concert you ever attended.

The Osmond Brothers. I was 12, okay?

7. What do you eat for dinner when you’re all alone in the house, and no one has to know about it?

Everything.

8. Name your favorite gift you ever gave to someone else, and what made it special?

The kids and I made a Father’s Day slideshow for my husband once, talking about the things the kids had learned from him. It made him cry. Total win.

9. What is one of the biggest risks you’ve taken as a writer?

Sitting down at that damned computer day after day.

10. Kurt Vonnegut or J.K. Rowling?

Oh please. I can’t even PRONOUNCE Vonnegut.

11. What are your favorite activities outside writing?

I’m quite fond of sleeping. Breathing is right up there, too.

12. How many books have you published, and how many had you written before you thought of yourself as a successful writer?

Published: (counts on fingers) 5 novels, 1 novella releasing next month, many more in the pipeline. There is no success yet. There is only Zuul.

[Editor’s note: Host Dana had to look that one up. Zuul the Gatekeeper of Gozer is a demigod who possessed Dana Barrett (aka Sigourney Weaver in “Ghostbusters.” You learn something new every day.]

13. What would you choose as your super power, and what would you do with it?

I could seriously go for one of those Time Turners they use in Harry Potter.

14. In which genres and sub-genres are you published, and which was the hardest and easiest to write?

All my books are the equivalent of family sitcoms. The hardest one to write is always the one in progress. The easiest is always the one I just finished.

15. Kardashians. Yes or no?

Yes, but only for as long as it takes me to get the name of their publicist.

***

The Bridesmaid and the Bachelor

By Kris Fletcher

Chapter One

Kyrie Elias walked into the gaily decorated Bellagio function room, scanned the space filled with folks she was charged with deceiving, and decided the only sensible place to start was the bar.

She wove her way through the room, smiling politely at all she passed—the other attendants for the impending Boyle-Sitka nuptials. Her sister had assured her it would be easy to carry out this charade. The bride is the only one I know really well, Paige had said on the phone. You know her well enough to convince her you’re me. And she’ll be too busy to spend much time with anyone, let alone a late game fill-in bridesmaid. You can pretend to be me with no problem.

Right. Paige could pull this off with no problem. Kyrie was pretty sure she was going to spend the next three days carrying a paper bag in her purse so she would have it handy when she started hyperventilating.

She squeezed between some husky shoulders—all the groomsmen, according to Paige, were the groom’s former college football teammates—and smiled at the bartender, who stopped midway through pouring a glass of wine to nod at her.

“I’ll have a glass of white—”

No. If she was going to carry off this bridesmaid-in-disguise thing, she was going to need to do more than wear Paige’s short skirts.

“On second thought, make that a Brazen Mojito. Thanks.”

The bartender nodded and tossed ingredients into a small blender. Kyrie turned to survey the rest of the guests, trying to get a feel for the land before she dove in.

She would have pegged Siobhan as the bride even without having met her a few times. The little silver hair band with a short veil attached was a helpful clue. Kyrie would bet a very large amount of the money she no longer had that Siobhan’s hairpiece hadn’t come from one of the tacky tourist shops just off the Strip. And unless she missed her guess, the stones winking out from the silvery half-circle could probably have paid off the debts that had left Kyrie with no choice when Paige proposed this masquerade.

Do this for me, Kir, and I’ll forgive the loan. Totally and completely.

“Miss?” A light touch on her elbow had her turning and accepting her drink. Ew. Paige really needed to switch to something that didn’t look like it was the residue from an industrial accident.

Pretend you’re sampling a new coffee for the shop. That, she knew how to do.

“Over the lips and past the gums.” She took a deep breath, tipped the concoction high, and promptly choked.

But not from the booze.

She stared in horror at the tall, lanky man who had just entered the room. The black haired man now laughing and slapping the back of one of the football players. The man with the bluest eyes she had ever seen, once she had peeled away his tinted glasses and tossed them to the ground two years ago.

Ben Sitka. Brother of the groom. The one man who could blow her entire deception out of the water before it truly began.

She whirled back to face the bar, wishing she’d thought to pack that Emergency Hyperventilation bag before she came to this party. She needed to … crap, what? Running was out of the question.

Stay calm.

Right. She needed to stay calm. Ben hadn’t spotted her, and if he did, so what? It had been almost two years. Her hair was styled like Paige’s; her clothes came from Paige’s closet. He knew she was a twin. All she had to do was act like she’d never met him, introduce herself as Paige, and carry on. She could do this.

Assuming, of course, she could stop herself from turning into a puddle of something hot and needy the moment he spoke to her. Or once she caught a whiff of that soapy-musty-slightly-bookish scent that had lingered in her memory all this time. Or if he touched her.

She really couldn’t let him touch her.

“Need another?”

The bartender’s quiet question made her open her eyes. Ack. She must have closed them when she started remembering. Not a good plan when tracking the one person who could blow her cover.

“I’m good, thanks.” She dredged up a smile. “Still jet lagged, I guess.”

He nodded toward the drink. “Better go slow, then. That thing’ll knock you on your ass faster than you can say, ‘Welcome to Vegas’.”

“You’re right.” Grateful for the excuse, she set the glass on a tray and wiped her damp palms on her skirt. She could wait and hold her breath until Ben noticed her, or she could take matters into her own hands, start mingling, and make her way to him naturally. The way Paige would do it. The way Kyrie had taught herself to draw out her customers.

She could do this.

She tilted her chin, did her best imitation of her sister’s smile—breezy, carefree, I love being with people! —and dove back into the wall of shoulders, aiming for the bride.

Maybe she should have mentioned Ben to Paige when they made this deal. But seriously, who would have believed he would be there? Yes, he was the groom’s brother, but when she had last seen him, he had been on his way to a year in Brazil, then a stint in Antarctica. She was pretty sure that people couldn’t simply hop a flight out of McMurdo Station for a long weekend, even for a family wedding.

Though in a way it was kind of nice to know she wasn’t the only one who’d had her plans yanked out from beneath her since they’d had their little…um….

Damn. Two years since he turned a lonely week at the lake into the Best Vacation Ever, and she still didn’t know what to call what they’d had. But she sure had some great names for the things they had done. Not that she should be thinking about that now, though dear Lord, how could she not?

Kyrie slid into the mass of short dresses and long hair swirling around Siobhan. It didn’t take long.

“Paige!” Siobhan stopped in mid-story and squealed, leaning forward to wrap Kyrie in a giant hug. “You made it! I got so freaked when you said your flight was delayed. I just knew something was going wrong and you wouldn’t be able to make it and oh my God, sweetie, how could I possibly get married without you?”

Thank heaven that seemed to be a rhetorical question. Otherwise, it might have been tempting to remind Siobhan that Paige had only been added to the wedding party after another girl had the nerve to get pregnant.

“Girls, this is Paige. We were roommates in our freshman year at Bowdoin, and we’ve stayed like this ever since.” She linked her arm through Kyrie’s and pulled her close. “Paige, this is Gen and Rachel—I work with them—and ….”

The names went on. Kyrie smiled and nodded and squealed where it seemed appropriate, all the while alternating between listening for a shift in Siobhan’s tone or some sign from Ben. So far, so good. If the rest of the weekend went this smoothly, she’d be golden.

She took an outstretched hand from the second or third Megan of the night, looked into the crowd, and knew she’d been spotted.

She didn’t have to be close to Ben to notice the way he stopped moving, the way he seemed to have taken a deliberate step back even though she could swear he hadn’t actually shifted position. His glasses had slipped partway down his nose and his hand hovered in midair, caught in the act of preparing to push them back into place. Behind those glasses his eyes were round and stunned. His mouth hung open the slightest bit. Honestly, if she weren’t so terrified, she would have to giggle. All he needed was a lab coat and she could slap him on a poster for the World’s Sexiest Absent-Minded Professor.

As it was, she sent silent thanks skyward that she had seen him already and was prepared for this. She made herself meet his gaze. Easy. No worries, no flinching, and oh crap, he was gulping and shoving his glasses back into place as if hoping they would tell him he wasn’t seeing what he was seeing.

Do. Not. React.

She smiled in his general direction – polite, friendly, the kind that could be bestowed on any stranger seen across a crowded room – and turned her attention back to Megan 2.

“I’m sorry, how did you say you know Siobhan?”

“Well, I was at a meeting of the Junior League and they needed people to work on the Black and White Ball, and I wasn’t sure if it was the right job for me because, you know, I’m not very good at organizing things, but then Siobhan leaned over and said ….”

It was almost a relief when she saw Ben heading in her direction. Things might get ugly, but at least they weren’t going to be as boring as Megan 2’s story.

“… we would only have to meet once a month, so that made me think that—”

“Kyrie?”

For one moment, she let herself soak in the wonder in his voice. So many emotions packed into that one tiny utterance, and to know it was for her—not for Paige, not for any of her other sisters, but for her, Kyrie—well, hearing that amazed disbelief both filled her and broke her. Because there was no way she could let him know the truth. No way she could follow through and see what would happen if she were to whirl around and tell him it was her and fall into his arms the way she longed to do.

If she were to come out of this weekend with any hope of keeping her beloved coffee house solvent, she had to get Paige to forgive the start-up loan. Which meant she had to fulfill Paige’s one request: keep Siobhan in the dark as to her true identity. Which meant she had to keep Ben as distant as if he really were down at the Pole.

She steeled herself and turned to him.

“Not Kyrie, sorry.” She smiled with what she hoped was the right amount of resignation and regret. “I’m her sister Paige. Don’t worry. People get us confused all the time.” This would be the point when Paige would flash her dimples, but since they weren’t identical twins—not that most people could tell—Kyrie was, sadly, dimple-less. She had to settle for a tip of the head. “So hello, pleased to meet you, what’s your name, and how do you know Kyrie?”

Confusion and disappointment clouded his face and lodged in her throat. Had he missed her that much? Had he, like she, lain awake at night, remembering their week together, and wondered what if?

***

The Bridesmaid and the Bachelor, a Calypso Falls novella, will be released Nov. 15, 2016, from Penguin LLC. It is available for pre-order through these online retailers: Amazon, Barnes & Noble and Books-A-Million.

***

About Kris

Kris Fletcher writes about small towns, big families, and love that grows despite them. She has a thing for underdogs, which probably explains her lifelong devotion to the Toronto Maple Leafs. Kris shares her central New York home – fondly known as Casa Kitty – with her husband, a few of their many kids, two cats, and a large population of wild killer dust bunnies. You can learn more about Kris, her books, and how much snow is on her deck at www.krisfletcher.com. Also, connect with her on Facebook or Twitter.

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Author Speed Dating: Ruth Ryan Langan

October 11, 2016October 5, 2016 by Dana Nussio

Author Speed Dating(1)

This week’s guest: Ruth Ryan Langan

ruthphoto

CONTEMPORARY ROMANCE

15 Questions

1. Ferrari or Ford F-150?

Ferrari. Just to see how I’d look in one, since the F-150 is a staple in my family’s life.

2. What is your biggest fear as you are writing a story?

That I’ll forget everything I’ve ever learned about the craft of writing.

3. Name a TV you have either binge-watched or own on DVD.

The first season of Scandal. Not to be missed. Each season after that got progressively sillier. Or I got jaded. And all of Downton Abbey. Devoured it. Couldn’t get enough.

4. What is the one thing you wish someone else had told you before you published your first book?

To have a career plan.

5. Rolling Stones or Florida Georgia Line?

Stones. They’re old like me.

6. Name the most embarrassing concert you ever attended?

Jack Jones in Las Vegas. A coveted head table. My poor husband fell asleep, head back, actually snoring, and Jack Jones was singing “Time To Get Ready For Love”. He caught my eye, walked down off the stage, and sang it to me, while hubby snored, much to the delight of the entire audience. As we left later, hubby asked what was so funny as dozens of strangers wanted to shake his hand.

7. What do you eat for dinner when you’re all alone in the house, and no one has to know about it?

Cottage cheese, right from the carton. I love cottage cheese.

8. Name your favorite gift you ever gave to someone else, and what made it special?

A rabbit fur coat my daughters and I bought my mother. She opened the box and cried. (She never cried in public). Later she put it on and smiled from ear to ear.

9. What is one of the biggest risks you’ve taken as a writer?

Sending off my very first manuscript to a publisher, and living on dreams for months before receiving my first rejection letter. And then doing it again and again, until I had my first sale.

10. Kurt Vonnegut or J.K. Rowling?

J.K. She tapped into the world’s fascination with all things magic, and deserves the success it has brought her. Plus, I just love her rags-to-riches true-life story.

11 . What are your favorite activities outside writing?

Reading. I never get caught up. And gardening. I love digging in the dirt and watching pretty things grow from tiny seeds and plants.

12. How many books have you published, and how many had you written before you thought of yourself as a successful writer?

Over one hundred published now, and I still feel like that dreamy mother of five little kids, wondering if I could ever be a writer. I’ll let you know if I ever feel successful.

13. What would you choose as your super power, and what would you do with it?

Speak dozens of foreign languages. I wouldn’t let anyone know, so I could listen to strangers in elevators and know what they’re saying (especially about me.)

14. In which genres and sub-genres are you published, and which was the hardest and easiest to write?

I’ve had both contemporary and historical romantic-suspense novels published, and the historicals take a bit more work since I have to do research on the setting and era.

15. Kardashians. Yes or no?

No. Don’t watch. Don’t care.

***

Luke

By R.C. Ryan

A November, 2016 release from Forever

A division of Grand Central Publishing

…Ingrid’s smile fled and she jerked back. “Don’t try playing those games with me, Luke.”

“What games are we talking about?”

“You know exactly what I mean. All those sexy moves.”

“Really? Sexy?” He was grinning as he reached a hand to her cropped hair. “Like this?”

Her chin came up. “If you want lots of hair, reach for Nadine’s.”

“Is that why you chopped yours off?” He allowed a silken strand to sift through his fingers. “To prove a point?”

“Well, aren’t you the brilliant observer. For the record, there are a lot of things Nadine does that I refuse to do. I don’t bother with makeup. And…”

“…and you try to hide your gorgeous body under this bulky shirt.” He fingered the rough collar. His smile was quick and charming. “I’ll let you in on a secret. It’s not working.”

She slapped his hand away. “Stop trying to be clever. I know what I am. I’m a rancher who’s struggling to stay on the land I love. A big sister working overtime to raise Lily to be the best she can.”

“You forgot the most important. You’re a woman.” His voice lowered to a near growl. “Maybe you’d like to forget that, but it’s impossible for me to overlook the fact that you’re not just a woman but a gorgeous, amazing, very independent one.”

She actually gasped as he leaned close.

“Just so you know, I’m going to kiss you, Ingrid.” His arms came around her and he gathered her close.

He’d known her lips would be soft and inviting. Had known it from the first time he’d looked at them. But he wasn’t prepared for the taste of her. Sweet, yet tart. So strong, but he could feel the way her breath hitched, alerting him to her unease. All woman, and fighting it.

She kept her hands at her sides, refusing to give him any encouragement.

“I won’t do anything you don’t want me to. So don’t be afraid.” He spoke the words inside her mouth.

“I’m not…”

“Just for a moment, Ingrid, let yourself enjoy something.”

She responded with a soft purr in the back of her throat. For the space of a heartbeat he could feel her relax in his arms as she gave herself up to the moment.

A burst of heat shot through Luke’s veins. His heartbeat was thundering, keeping time with hers. He changed the angle of the kiss and took it deeper, until he could actually feel the fire. The ground tilted beneath his feet, and he knew he was losing control. He hadn’t meant to take it this far. None of it had been planned. He’d merely wanted to kiss her, and tease her a little. But now, too late, he realized that one taste of these lips would never be enough.

***

Luke by R.C. Ryan will be released on Nov. 29, 2016, and is available for pre-order through these online retailers: Amazon and Barnes & Noble.

***

About Ruth

New York Times best-selling author Ruth Ryan Langan, who also writes as R. C. Ryan, has seen more than one hundred of her fiction novels, both contemporary and historical, published. Quite an accomplishment for someone who, after her fifth child started school, gave herself the gift of an hour a day to follow her dream to become a published author.

Ruth has given dozens of radio, television and print interviews across the country and Canada, and was quoted in such diverse publications as THE WALL STREET JOURNAL and COSMOPOLITAN. She had the privilege of being interviewed by radio legend J.P.McCarthy shortly before his death. Ruth has been interviewed on CNN NEWS, as well as GOOD MORNING AMERICA, and was a guest years ago on DONAHUE.,

LUKE, the second book in the Malloys of Montana series, written under her pseudonym R. C. Ryan, will be released in November, followed by her novella A COWBOY’S CHRISTMAS EVE, in December. The last book in the Malloys of Montana series, REED, will be published in April 2017.

Connect with Ruth through her website, www.ryanlangan.com, and through these social-media sites: Facebook and Twitter.

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Author Speed Dating: Claire McEwen

October 11, 2016September 28, 2016 by Dana Nussio

Author Speed Dating(1)

If there’s one thing I enjoy almost as much as writing books, it’s READING books. I love discovering new authors, too. So I thought my blog would be a perfect place to introduce my authors friends to potential new readers. Only to give it a twist, we’re doing this Speed-Dating style. Check out a new author here every Wednesday, and if the spark is there, you’ll have a match.

This week’s guest: Claire McEwen

Author Photo - Claire McEwen

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15 Questions

1. Which Scooby Doo character best describes you in high school?

Scooby Doo himself! Blundering around (socially, that is), looking for snacks and making a lot of mistakes.

2. How many rejections did you receive before you sold your first book?

None. Thank you Harlequin and the So You Think You Can Write Contest and my amazing editor who took a chance on me!

3. Bon Jovi or Tim McGraw?

Tim McGraw. Country music inspires my western romances!

4. In which genres and subgenres have you been published, and what does your narrow or sweeping focus say about you?

So far I’ve only written Harlequin Superromance books. I’m wordy and complicated, just like they are!

5. When you give into a craving for fast food, what’s your drive-thru destination, and what would be found in your bag?

Does Starbucks count as a drive-thru? Because…coffee!

6. Which is your preference to write: love scenes or murder scenes?

Love scenes, absolutely. I am a total wimp about murder and scary things.

7. Jane Austen or Stephen King?

See Question #6. Jane Austen, without a doubt!

8. What is your best advice to a writer who has just received a rejection?

Chocolate helps. Keep working on your writing, keep pushing yourself, keep enjoying the writing process.

9. Are you more dangerous in a bookstore or a shoe store?

I am EXTREMELY dangerous in both!

10. Which heroine from one of your books is most like you?

Jenna in my second book, More Than A Rancher. Her story is based on my experiences teaching dance and living in San Francisco. But no, I didn’t do that thing she does at Aquatic Park. Just in case you were wondering!

11. The Bachelor or Sons of Anarchy?

The Bachelor. I cringe at all the drama, but it’s addictive!

12. What is the first thing you do when you finish a book?

If my family is home, I take a victory lap around the living room and kitchen shouting, “I typed The End!” Then I clean my house.

13. Name one thing you wish you could change about yourself.

Do I have to pick only one? Because there’s my procrastinating, my self-doubt and my awkward, bumbling inner-Scooby Doo, as mentioned in question #1.

14. Does your perfect vacation involve high-altitude and the word “jump” or umbrellas drinks at poolside?

Ack! No jumping! Ever! (Grabs her umbrella drink and takes a soothing gulp.)

15. Sure, it’s like picking a favorite child, but which one or two of your titles do you secretly love just a little more?

My most recent book, Return to Marker Ranch. It’s straight from my heart onto the page.

*******

Return to Marker Ranch

By Claire McEwen

Even though Marker Ranch was just down the road, Lori had never actually been here. She’d grown up with Wade and wasted her teenage years in the throes of a tortured crush on the bad boy he became. But no one she knew had ever set foot on his family’s ranch. Wade’s dad and older brothers hadn’t exactly encouraged visitors. In fact, they’d been downright scary.

She squinted at a weathered sign nailed to a post at the start of the driveway. The faded black letters read Keep Out. Lori wasn’t usually one to break the rules, but today was different. Her ranch was at stake.

Her truck pitched and bumped through the minefield of potholes that passed for a driveway. The place was a mess. One entire pasture was filled with rusted-out cars. The main barn was leaning and sagging, tired and gray, its paint long gone. The farmhouse was in a similar state. Roof shingles were missing and the porch looked like it was about to fall right off the house. It was a shame because it had obviously been a lovely home long ago.

The place looked deserted. There was none of the bustle you’d find around a typical ranch house. No dogs barking, chickens fluttering or livestock clamoring for dinner. The silence made her uneasy, and suddenly she wondered if she should have brought someone with her. She stepped out of the truck, keeping one hand on the door. “Hello?” she called.

Her voice disappeared into the dry heat of the late afternoon. “Hello?” she tried again.

She shut the door and took a few steps toward the house, but a noise coming from a ramshackle plywood shed to her left stopped her in her tracks. There was a clanking and a scraping, and then a skateboard came flying out the shed door and landed in the grass with a thud. As Lori watched in amazement, a weed whacker followed. Then a chainsaw. Then another.

She took a few steps toward the shed. A car wheel rolled out of the dim interior, and she dodged out of its path. “Hey!” she yelled. “Anyone in there?”

There was silence, then the crunching of boots on gravel. A man stepped out of the shadows, and Lori’s heart hit her stomach with a soft, sickening thump of recognition. Wade Hoffman.

*******

Return to Marker Ranch may be purchased through these online retailers: Amazon, Harlequin, Barnes & Noble.

*******

About Claire

Claire McEwen lives by the ocean in Northern California with her family and a scruffy, mischievous terrier. Her books feature strong heroes and heroines who take emotional journeys to find their happily-ever-afters. When not dreaming up new stories, she can be found digging in her garden with a lot of enthusiasm but, unfortunately, no green thumb. She loves discovering flea-market treasures, walking on the beach, dancing, traveling and reading, of course!

Connect with Claire through her website, http://www.clairemcewen.com, or through these social media sites: Amazon Author Page, Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest and Instagram.

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Author Speed Dating: Joanne Rock

October 11, 2016August 31, 2016 by Dana Nussio

Author Speed Dating(1)

This week’s guest: Joanne Rock

15 Questions

1. Which Disney princess (or prince) do you wish you were more like? And which one are you really most like?

Snow White. Jasmine.

2. Monopoly or Battleship?

Battleship.

3. How many books have you published, and how many are still tucked in a drawer somewhere?

Published: 83. Tucked in a drawer: None complete, but about 5 partials.

4. If you had no audience, and no regrets would follow, what midnight snack(s) would you be gorging on tonight?

Crème brulee. Bread pudding. Some cracked pepper kettle chips. Nachos and chicken wing dip.

5. Blahniks or Nikes?

Flats only for this arthritis sufferer, so Nikes.

6. Give the title of the first manuscript (published or unpublished) you ever wrote.

Moonrise.

7. If you were marooned on a deserted island with plenty of food and water but with only one book to read and re-read, which title would you hope for?

Marion Zimmer Bradley’s Mists of Avalon

8. In which genres and sub-genres have you been published?

Contemporary Romance, Medieval Historical Romance and Young Adult fiction.

9. Pizza and beer or steak and Chianti?

All of the above.

10. How old were you when you had the first inkling you might be a writer, and what gave you that hint?

Age 10. I was obsessed with textbooks, reading and writing.

11. In 10 words or less, give your best writing advice to aspiring authors.

Trust your gut. Don’t give up.

12. TED Talks or Cupcake Wars?

TED.

13. Which one of your own fictional heroes would you have taken home if you could?

Billionaire athlete Jean Pierre Reynaud from Secret Baby Scandal. Sweet, wealthy, and an athlete… Swoony.

14. What is your most ridiculous fear?

Spinach in my teeth.

15. If someone has never read one of your books, which title would you recommend she read first?

Nights Under the Tennessee Stars. I love that one!

***

Whispers Under a Southern Sky

By Joanne Rock

Returning from the grocery store to purchase supplies, Amy took the Partridge Hill Road slowly, climbing the sharp incline with a respectful speed. She was wary of the potholes and cavernous cracks in tarmac that looked like the town had been ignoring it for decades.

Her car was on its last leg, an eBay deal she’d snagged for next to nothing after her previous vehicle had died. A gray sedan built for efficiency and not comfort, the car was held together with duct tape, furnace cement, a few well-placed zip ties and a whole lot of You Tube video knowledge on DIY mechanics. She was proud she’d kept the thing running this long, but she wasn’t about to risk her luck on one of those black holes.

Even if that meant she couldn’t zip past the house where Sam Reyes was rumored to live.

She kept her eyes on the road so as not to risk any accidental sightings. Not that she wasn’t curious, of course. Her long-ago boyfriend had been hot as a teenager when other boys were still gangly and awkward. Her imagination could fill in the blanks quite nicely to envision him as a man full grown. She didn’t need that visual confirmed. Especially not after they’d had the world’s most awkward non-breakup.

He had just up and disappeared. Vanished into thin air with Gabriella Chase, a particularly adorable majorette who probably would have been homecoming queen. If she hadn’t left school to run away with Sam. His mysterious email—weeks later–claiming that he’d left to “help a friend” hadn’t exactly eased her anger.

Thump!

The car dipped down into a rut she hadn’t seen. The passenger side tire scraped something sharp, a grating noise against the wheel. She hit the gas on instinct since her vehicle was prone to stalling.

And yet, of course, her sedan died right there.

“Unacceptable.” She closed her eyes. Willed the vehicle to life. “If not for me, you would be in a scrap heap.”

Sadly, it wasn’t her first dialogue with the vehicle. But for the first time, the cursed thing seemed to listen because it fired up again with a cough and a splutter.

“Yes!” She hit the gas hard, desperate to get out of sight from the last house on Partridge Hill Road.

She wasn’t a woman who enjoyed being rescued and, thankfully, her closest neighbor would be saved from that role today. Racing up the rest of the hill, she dodged the remaining pits and crevices, flush with victory and the knowledge she had enough supplies to last her for the next two weeks. She wouldn’t need to worry about seeing anyone until she felt well settled in and—

Oh. Crap.

A large man stood on the porch of the hunting cabin.

Dressed in black and wearing dark sunglasses, the figure stood with his back to her, his large shoulders bent over something he seemed to be examining on the front porch swing. A hit man deciding which weapon to use? Her brain churned out a whole series of crazy possibilities when he did not turn toward her as she slowed the car.

Fear crawled up her throat since no one should be here. Her sisters had promised her—promised—that they would let her decide when she wanted to see the family. No one else knew she was here. And the guy on the porch sure didn’t look like he was selling something. Or trying to convert her.

Why hadn’t the man noticed her yet? She debated backing down the road again. She could just slide it into neutral and she’d be at the bottom of Partridge Hill in moments. Then suddenly, even with her heart beating hard and the car’s heater blowing on high, she realized she could hear the wail of an infant.

Even as she told herself that made no sense, the man on the porch straightened from whatever he’d been studying on the wooden swing. He held a baby in his arms.

But that wasn’t nearly the most shocking thing about her uninvited guest.

Because the man in front of her was Samuel Reyes….

A September 2016 release from Harlequin Superromance, WHISPERS UNDER A SOUTHERN SKY is available from these retailers: Amazon , B&N, Harlequin.

*******

About Joanne

Four-time RITA nominee Joanne Rock has never met a romance sub-genre she didn’t like. The author of over seventy books enjoys writing a wide range of stories, most recently focusing on sexy contemporaries and small town family sagas. An optimist by nature and perpetual seeker of silver linings, Joanne finds romance fits her life outlook perfectly–love is worth fighting for. A frequent speaker at regional and national writing conferences, she enjoys giving back to the writing community that nurtured and inspired her early career. She has a Masters degree in Literature from the University of Louisville but credits her fiction writing skills to intensive study with fellow author and friend, Catherine Mann. When she’s not writing, Joanne enjoys travel, especially to see her favorite sports teams play with her former sports editor husband and three athletic-minded sons.

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