#TellTaleTuesday with Debra St. John and Halloween at The Corral

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Author Debra St. John is here to share the story behind her novel Halloween at The Corral.

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I’m a big fan of series. Both to read and to write. When I finished my Corral Series, I wasn’t quite ready to let the world I created go. I wanted to stay and visit for a little while longer. So I came up with the idea of doing a spin-off series. I thought about what format I wanted to use and finally decided I would write several holiday stories. The characters in these stories would be characters we first met in the original trilogy. And all of the stories would take place, at least in part, at The Corral, the honky tonk bar I created and which the series revolves around. It’s modeled after the bar where my hubby and I met over twenty years ago.

Dan Jenkins, the hero in Halloween at The Corral, is the first character I purposely put in a book with the intent of using in this spin-off series. We first meet Dan in This Feels Like Home, where he’s helping Jake Hawkins get ready to ride a bull. He gets one mention. That’s it.

All I really knew about Dan when I started his story was he’s a bull rider. When I decided to use his character in my Halloween story, I gave him a background very different than the bull rider he is today. My theme became, ‘You don’t need a costume to hide who you really are.’ Throughout the story, Dan is trying to figure out who he really is.

To help him figure that out, I brought in another minor character from the original series, Kelly. Kelly works at the local dry cleaners, but again, we don’t really know anything else about her. While Kelly tries to figure out who Dan really is, she adds the holiday flavor to the story: jack-o-lanterns, costumes, and holiday parties.

I didn’t purposely plan to pair Kelly and Dan, but it all worked out, and I was able to tell a fun Halloween story AND help Dan figure out who he really is. Along the way, Kelly found a man worthy of her heart.

The cover for this book is one of my favorites. Not only does it evoke everything fall with its brilliant colors, but with Dan’s face hidden by his hat, it really ties in the whole ‘hiding who you really are’ theme. From the moment I first saw it, I knew it was perfect!

Blurb

Kelly Harper has no interest in egomaniacs like Dan Jenkins. She also has no patience for the entourage of groupies who follow him while he basks in their attention. Her experience with her ex-fiancé has taught her to steer clear of guys like Dan who see women as no more than a pretty face to parade around.

Dan Jenkins is something of a local celebrity. His charm and good looks ensure he never lacks for female company, but truth be told, he finds their attentions shallow and superficial. No one bothers to get to know who he really is. Trouble is, Dan’s not sure he knows either.

Will Kelly be the one to figure out who Dan really is behind the good ol’ boy facade? If so, she just might discover a man she never expected—a man worthy of her heart.

Excerpt

“I enjoyed spending time with you today. I didn’t want it to end. You said I don’t talk to you like I talk to other girls. Well, you don’t talk to me like they talk to me.” He scooted closer across the bench seat. His breath fanned her face. “You don’t bat your eyelashes. Or flip your hair. Or smile like a beauty pageant contestant. You’re real.” His fingers brushed her cheek.

Her body hummed and her head buzzed like a sugar rush after too much Halloween candy.

“You got one thing wrong,” he whispered.

Her scrambled brain struggled to make sense of the words. “What?”

“Only sometimes, not many times, does it turn into more than flirting. And I wasn’t lying earlier. Even if it is more than flirting, I never bring women back to my house. I like my privacy.”

Great. She’d barged in and invaded the man’s personal space all day. “Why didn’t you slam the door in my face this morning?”

He chuckled. Low and intimate. Goosebumps chased down her arms. “I already told you. You’re different.”

His fingers wove through the hair at her nape. His mouth settled over hers and her pulse fluttered. Caught. Raced. Firm, yet soft, lips stroked hers. Even though her limbs went all melty, like the rich caramel center of a chocolate truffle, she wrapped her arms around his neck and sank deeper into the kiss. Which got better and better the longer it went on.

When Dan pulled away, all too soon, her breath was battered. Her heart raced. Every inch of her felt alive and aware. And wanting more.

“Do you want to come up?”

He kissed her again. Once. Softly. “Yes. But I’m not going to tonight.” The shadows hid his eyes, but his voice held the hint of a promise. There would be other nights. “We’ll take this slow. We’re still figuring each other out, remember?”

“Oh, I remember. And I am going to figure out who you really are, Dan Jenkins.”

“Good. Let me know when you do.”

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Halloween at The Corral is on sale for 99c this month!

Buy links

The Wild Rose Press / Amazon / Barnes and Noble

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The original Corral series, the holiday spin-offs, and the rest of Debra’s bookshelf can also be found at Amazon, B & N, and The Wild Rose Press.

The Wild Rose Press / Amazon / Barnes and Noble

Author Bio

Debra St. John has been reading and writing romance since high school. She always dreamed about publishing a romance novel someday. Her dream came true when she started writing sultry contemporary romance with spunky heroines and sexy heroes for The Wild Rose Press. Although she’s country gal at heart, she lives in a Chicago suburb with her husband, who is her real life hero.

Debra’s Online Playground

http://www.debrastjohnromance.com

http://www.heroineswithhearts.blogspot.com

https://www.facebook.com/debra.s.john.1

https://twitter.com/readDebraStJohn

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#MondayMorningMusic with Special Guest, Judy Meadows

Please welcome special guest author Judy Meadows for this week’s #MondayMorningMusic

When I asked KJ if she could mention on her blog that Escape from Behruz is on sale for 99¢, she asked, “Is there any music in the story, because I have this Monday morning music thing…” and I said YES.

But it’s not music from any of KJ’s favorite groups; it’s —(drum roll)—

Dotar Music!

The heroine Olivia is an acclaimed violinist back home, but since she didn’t have her violin with her while she lived in Behruz, she studied a traditional instrument of the region, the dotar. Here’s a scene from the book in which she plays the dotar.

First, the Setting

Olivia and the hero (and a baby and a puppy) are traveling through the mountains with a group of nomads. One evening, when everyone is gathered around a communal fire, one of the nomads starts playing his dotar. Olivia hurries to get her own dotar from her tent.

Excerpt

The nomads watched and commented as Olivia expertly adjusted the strings. When she was ready, she had Saddiq ask the musician if she could play with him. The old man smiled a shy, toothless smile and bowed his assent, and someone brought a rug for Olivia. She sat listening for a while and then joined in, harmonizing with the melody and adding little strums of rhythm.

The rest of the camp had joined the circle. Everyone was quiet, even the children. Rashid [the hero] stood spellbound.

No one spoke for a while after the song ended, then they all spoke at once.

“They want you to play an American song,” Saddiq told Olivia.

“All right, I’ll play the first song I learned on the piano when I was a child.” She motioned with her hands for the old man to join her as she began plucking a thin raspy melody. She sang in her sweet, clear voice:

Go tell Aunt Rhody, Go tell Aunt Rhody

Go tell Aunt Rhody

The old grey goose is dead

The nomads whispered questions to each other, and Saddiq said to Rashid, “I’m not sure I understood. What did the song say? Who died?”

Rashid told him it was a goose that died.

“Oh.” Saddiq chuckled. “That’s what I thought she said.” Saddiq translated the verse into Qashami and the nomads all laughed.

“They think it’s funny that Americans have a song about a goose dying,” he said.

Rashid smiled because the song was, indeed, silly and because the nomads’ reaction to it was delightful and because Livie would soon be in his arms again.

After each of the remaining verses, Olivia and the old man strummed softly while Saddiq translated for the others.

She died in the mill pond, died in the mill pond,

She died in the mill pond

Standing on her head

When the song was over, everyone clamored for more.

“Okay,” Olivia said. “This is a song about the freedom of living and riding in open country like this. It’ll probably make more sense to you than the song about a dead goose.” She strummed a more forceful beat and stronger melody and sang Don’t Fence Me In.

She sang all three verses, repeating the chorus after each one and pausing to allow for translation. The twangy sound of the dotar made a perfect accompaniment to the old cowboy song.

Everyone seemed awestruck. “They can’t believe the Americans have a song about them,” Saddiq said.

“More, more, more” everyone cried. Olivia recognized the Qashami word for more without waiting for Saddiq’s translation.

“Okay, one more. This song was written over a hundred years ago, and it’s still popular at weddings today.” The title is Let Me Call You Sweetheart. She started with a fast, cheerful beat, belying the message and not stopping for translation, but when she sang the chorus for the last time she slowed the pace. She sang to Rashid, twisting his heart with the promise of the words. The nomads were quiet, listening and watching the emotions flow between Rashid and Olivia.

Let me call you “Sweetheart,” I’m in love with you.

Let me hear you whisper that you love me too.

Keep the love-light glowing in your eyes so true.

Let me call you “Sweetheart,” I’m in love with you.

“I’m sorry you didn’t get a chance to translate,” he told Saddiq when the song ended. “You can just tell them it’s a song about love.”

Saddiq laughed. “I think they could tell.”

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Did I mention?

Escape from Behruz (a spicy Contemporary Romance, www.judymeadows.com) is on sale for 99¢!!!

And if you want to hear original versions of the songs mentioned in the excerpt:

Go Tell Aunt Rhody  (Burl Ives)

Don’t Fence Me In   (Bing Crosby) 

Let Me Call You Sweetheart  (Pat and Shirley Boone) 

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#ThirteenForThursday with Sorchia Dubois

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Author Sorchia Dubois joins us for this week’s Thirteen for Thursday

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Who was your first book boyfriend/girlfriend?

Ivanhoe/Robin Hood. I read Ivanhoe when I was pretty young and Robin Hood about the same time. Then there were Robin Hood movies—Thank you, Disney—with nice looking, tight-wearing boys with British accents. It looked like so much fun to live in the forest and fight bad guys with swords and bows and arrows. Ivanhoe was just too cool—he’d been all over the world and everybody at home either loved him or was scared of him. I’d have married either one of those guys despite the age difference and the technical problem that both of them were fictional.

What is the most interesting topic you’ve researched?

Since I like to put hints and tastes of legends in my stories, I do a lot of reading about weird creatures—especially Celtic folktales. So the most interesting things I’ve found are the Blue Men of the Minsch—demonic water Smurfs with a creepy fondness for poetry; the Baobhan sith, a female Highland vampire who makes Dracula look like a –well, like one of those sparkly teenage vampires from a certain movie series which shall not be named; and enough long-legged beasties to fill nightmares for the rest of my life.  I pass these along to readers because if I’m going to be awake all night wondering how much truth is in the old stories—so is everyone else.

What is your favorite book, song, and/or movie guilty pleasure?

Guilty pleasure—driving –going somewhere with the radio blasting and the tach red-lined. This is not something I indulge in often. Seriously, I love to drive and to travel but I don’t get to do it nearly enough. I used to drive a lot to get to work—sometimes over an hour one way—and those were the best times of the day. Traveling alone is my preferred method—nobody but me so I can stop when I want, drive through when I want, and take all the detours my little heart desires without any gripes, criticisms, or drama.

[K.J. here – we could be twins. Seriously…]

What are your favorite and least favorite words? (in any language…)

Not fond of the C-word, but very few others offend me all by themselves. It’s more the way they are said than the word itself that can get under my skin. My favorite words at the moment are ensorcellment (a long-standing fav), scheisse (for intense moments only), and kennings—these are figures of speech dating back to Old English and Old Norse poetry—like wine-dark sea or spear-din to describe battle. We use these old devices everyday (ankle-biter, fender bender, and on and on.) I like to make them up or adapt them to give my stories an old-world feel—at least for me. These are from my current WIP, Zoraida Grey and the Pictish Runes: moon-blue sorcery, ocean-ice eyes, spell-casters, moon-pie eyes.

Aside from writing, what different types of jobs have you done?

Pharmacist assistant, housecleaner, editor, teacher—some of them interesting at times, but none of them made me feel useful or like I was on the right path.

If you had to be a human planter, and you had to hold a plant while naked, what kind of plant would you hold and why?

English Ivy. I’m not allergic and I could probably convince myself I looked like a Rubenesque statue—cherubic and festively plump—with ivy leaves hiding the stretch marks and folds.

When you were little, what did you want to be when you grew up?

A writer! It started because Mom read to me a lot and I could hardly wait until I could read by myself because she always read dull stories propaganda about good little girls. Once I could read, I chose science fiction and lurid murder mysteries and, of course, epic romance. I typed my own interplanetary times newsletter in grade school and wrote an angst-filled teenage novel which I subsequently burned. I got very bad advice from male high school and college counsellors and allowed myself to be steered away from writing as a career. So I’m coming back to writing and feeling miles behind, but much happier.

White chocolate, milk chocolate, or dark chocolate?

I like my chocolate the way I like my men—dark, wrapped in foil, and with handy perforations to make them easier to break.

If you could witness any event past, present or future, what would it be?

Natural disasters are an interest but I’m not sure I would want to watch one knowing people were dying. If I could get past that, I’d like to see Krakatoa blow up, the Siberian whateveritwas, or the Tri-state tornado which actually passed not too far from where I live. Other than that, I’d like to see what Scotland and England looked like when the Caledonian Forest covered them. I have no interest in witnessing political events like the signing of the Declaration of Independence unless I could be there for the whole show from Pilgrim’s Rock on. It’s the whole story of these things that I find interesting—not just the event at the end.

What modern technology would you choose to not use and why?

TV though I love old movies—and some new ones. I waste so much time watching TV, I would gladly toss it out if it were not for the others in my house who use it as escape. And I admit, it keeps those others out of my hair so it is a necessary evil right now. Maybe I would just get rid of the news channels or even all the programs and just use it to watch movies. Then I would keep the TV and get rid of the microwave which is evil and just serves as a portal the NSA uses to watch me through.

What is the first movie you remember seeing?

True Grit—the first one I saw at a theater. My mom took me with a couple of friends and everybody was shocked when John Wayne said son of a bitch. Though my folks didn’t curse often in front of me, I was familiar with the concept and didn’t think much of it until the adults talked to me seriously about not using bad language—They seemed to single out me especially. I’m afraid their strategy backfired in a spectacular manner.

If you could speak a second language, what would it be and why?

I’m actually working on French and Gaelic. French, mainly because it’s easier and I may actually use it plus I studied it in college. Gaelic is difficult because most of the letters seem to be inserted just for fun or annoyance. I’m pretty sure Gaelic, like haggis, has its origins in a dare.

[K.J. here – mwahahaha on the haggis – I tried it when I was in Scotland. Super fantastic flavor, but I can’t get over knowing what’s in it…]

Favorite Olympic (Summer or Winter) sport and why?

Hard to choose but I am particularly fond of the Biathalon—This isn’t one of the flashy, popular events, but the history of it is intriguing. It involves cross-country skiing and shooting a rifle. In the individual event, the starts are staggered so you are essentially just doing your best without knowing for sure how you are measuring up against the others. It’s about a 12 mile ski race (about 10 miles for women) with twenty rifle targets along the way—sitting, standing, prone—several ways of shooting. The origin has to do with the Scandinavian god Ullr who was the god of skiing and hunting. The Norwegians developed military skiing contests in the 18th century, divided in four classes: shooting at mark while skiing at top speed, downhill race among trees, downhill race on big hills without falling, and a long race on flat ground while carrying rifle and military pack. I suspect this was adapted from an older tradition involving skiing, archery, and who knows what else. I just love the concentration and the need to be proficient in at least two things to succeed.  To me, it smacks of the epic and I could watch it all day long and make up stories about how it came to be and of battles and wars won because of the training.

Bonus Round

If you ruled your own country, what would you call it, and what would it be known for?

Whiskyland and our battle cry would be garbled and unintelligible—just a lot of yelling. Well, I guess we have Scotland for that. Ok. My country would be called The Woods and we would be famous for minding our own business and for a soothing magical spell we cast on everyone who enters.

Spiders, friends or foes?

Friends, though they have faulty memories and sometimes forget. I have about a million pictures of spider webs on my phone and I try not to kill spiders unless they are openly hostile. Even then, unless it is standing on my bed or in front of the refrigerator, I’ll either take it to a safer location or walk away rather than hurt it.

Sorchia’s Online Playground

Blog/Website: www.SorchiaDubois.com

Twitter: https://twitter.com/SorchiaDubois

Pinterest: www.pinterest.com/SorchiaDubois/

Facebook:  www.facebook.com/SorchiaD

Amazon author page: http://www.amazon.com/SorchiaDuBois/e/B00B60NOUQ/

Goodreads  author page: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6879978.Sorchia_DuBois

Google +: https://plus.google.com/u/0/+SorchiaDuBois

Author Bio

Sorchia Dubois lives in the piney forest of the Missouri Ozarks with seven cats, three fish, one dog, and one husband. Her two kids are grown and out in the world, but they come home to do laundry and for fried catfish dinner. She edits technical writing part time, but she spends a number of hours each day tapping out paranormal romance, Gothic murder, and Scottish thrillers.

A proud member of the Ross clan, Sorchia incorporates all things Celtic (especially Scottish) into her works. She can often be found swilling Scotch at Scottish festivals and watching kilted men toss large objects for no apparent reason.

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#TellTaleTuesday with Luanna Stewart and Love & Mayhem

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Author Luanna Stewart joins us this week to share the story behind her novel Love & Mayhem.

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Thank you so much, K.J., for letting me visit with your readers.

[K.J. here – thanks for coming to visit, Luanna!]

One of my favourite scenes in my latest release, Love & Mayhem, is right at the start when the hero and heroine meet. They’d known each other before but hadn’t seen each other in many years due to unforeseen circumstances. I wanted to convey Sybil’s feisty independence and her apparent disinterest in male persons. She’s convinced she’s happy as a spinster on the shelf, occupying her time with running the family sheep farm. But when she sees Max she can’t believe the young man from her past has become this mature and handsome man – truly hero worthy.

Max, the hero, had been away for several years and had all but forgotten the sister of his friend. He certainly had no recollection of her being particularly beautiful. So when they meet again he’s thrown for a loop, no longer sure of his plans for the future. In that first meeting he’s confronted by a female who doesn’t act at all as females should, and his curiosity is piqued.

The whole reason I wanted to write this story was to turn the usual trope – young woman must marry because she has the hots for the guy but won’t sleep with him until they’re wed – on its head. Sybil has the hots for Max but there’s no way in heck she’ll get married. She enjoys her independence and a husband will just get in the way. She’ll take a lover instead. She pursues him, and has the devil of a time convincing him to participate. Also, she’s unschooled in seduction and has to do research. Needless to say, shenanigans ensue, hehe.

Blurb

Sybil is happily on the shelf, tending to her sheep. But she fears she’ll depart this life without experiencing physical love, which she suspects is rather enjoyable. When her long-lost fiancé returns from sea, she decides he’s the lucky man who’ll receive her virginity.

Max is eager to return to his sugar plantation and has no intention of remaining long in London. However, he didn’t bargain on a wilful, pretty, exasperating spinster determined to take him to her bed.

He insists on marriage but she wants only his body. Her heart is not part of the deal. Unfortunately, love doesn’t always follow the rules.

Excerpt from Chapter One

London, England, 1882

Sybil Woodbridge shut the door and sank onto the hard chair behind the desk in the study of the rented house. She glanced at the threadbare carpet, more dirt than pattern, then at the dirt under her fingernails. She was filthy from scrubbing the top layer of grime in the rooms they’d use. If it were up to her, she’d—

But it wasn’t up to her. A spinster sister had few rights even in these more enlightened times. Married women had even fewer. Thank goodness that at the ripe old age of twenty-nine offers of marriage had dried up.

She shivered as the damp cold penetrated her gown. That smell was in this room, too. She was used to strong odors, being a sheep farmer, but those smells were the natural result of raising animals. She enjoyed them: hay, damp fleece, manure. This smell—she wrinkled her nose. She suspected several mouse carcasses lay within the walls. A rodent crypt.

She got up and stirred the fire, then placed a few more lumps of coal on the grate. Late February was frigid this year, and the house was impossible to keep warm. No wonder her brother had been able to rent it so cheaply.

Seated again at her desk with heat from the fire warming her back, she moved her journal to one side and shuffled through papers and ledgers. Balancing the accounts from the previous year should have been done weeks ago. But with one thing and another, the tedious chore had been moved from one day’s list of tasks to the next. And the next, and the next. Most days she could find any number of things she’d rather do than sit in the virtual counting house. Most days—well, all the time—she had a farm to manage and fields to tromp.

Unfortunately, her silly brother had gotten an idea in his head, and so here she was, in London, in a rented house, with naught to do but add income and subtract expenses—the larger of the two sums.

Squirming in the chair, she rubbed at her leg. Dratted wool stockings, always prickling and itching. And crawling—

Crawling. Blast. Sybil hiked up her skirts. The sensation of tiny legs scrabbling over her flesh increased tenfold. Now the buggers were on her thighs heading toward—

She pulled the skirts to her waist, spread her legs, and searched the skin.

Oswald had rented a flea-infested hovel!

Where were the buggers? She felt them crawling through the hair on her head and up her back. Blast it all to—when she saw her brother again…

The door opened.

“Christ.”

She raised her head to verbally skewer the speaker, but it wasn’t Oswald. It was a man, though. An attractive man. The handsomest man she’d ever seen. Or imagined. Tall, swarthy, with brilliant blue eyes staring at her—oh!

Sybil tried lowering her skirt but it had become tangled with itself and the hem was caught on the arm of the chair.

Oh heavens, her face burned. She was not a pretty blusher, but instead looked like she’d been slapped hard. Finally, finally, she got her legs covered and again met the man’s gaze. “Who are you?”

****

Maxwell Bretherton closed the door at his back and leaned against the solid wood. Sybil, in the flesh. And what gloriously pale, smooth flesh it was, covering slender legs. All the way to her frilly drawers.

What a sight for sexually deprived eyes. He’d not gazed on a woman’s naked body in months. Not that she was naked but he’d like her to be. He’d forgotten how pretty she was. Blonde hair gleaming in the lamplight. Green eyes wide, surprised, embarrassed.

Angry?

His cock stirred. Definitely too long since he’d slept with a woman. Though, since his mistress never came to his house, and he never spent the night in hers, sleep didn’t enter the picture. Best to give it the proper name—tupping, fornicating, fucking.

Finding Sybil with her legs spread wide put all those words at the front of his brain.

“I said, who are you?” Definitely angry.

“Don’t you recognize me? I knew you instantly, even with that charming distraction.” He moved closer to the heat from the fire. And into the circle of light.

“Good heavens.” Her voice barely above a whisper, her eyes widened farther and the color drained from her cheeks. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Where to Purchase

The Wild Rose Press / Amazon

iTunes / Kobo / Barnes and Noble

Author Bio

Luanna Stewart has been creating adventures for her imaginary friends since childhood. As soon as she discovered her grandmother’s stash of romance novels, all plots had to lead to a happily-ever-after.

Luanna writes full time, concentrating on sexy romantic suspense, steamy paranormal romance, and spicy historical romance.

Born and raised in Nova Scotia, Luanna has recently returned to the land of her birth with her dear husband and two spoiled cats. When she’s not torturing her heroes and heroines, she’s in her kitchen baking something delicious.

Under her previous pen name of Grace Hood she has two novellas published with The Wild Rose Press.

Luanna’s Online Playground

Website:  http://www.luannastewart.com/

Twitter:  https://twitter.com/Luanna_Stewart

Facebook:  https://www.facebook.com/Luanna.Stewart.nau

Pinterest:  https://www.pinterest.com/luannastewart/

Goodreads:  https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/14104212.Luanna_Stewart

Amazon Author Page:  www.amazon.com/author/luanna_stewart

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#MondayMorningMusic – You Get What You Give by New Radicals

photo: marfis75

Feeling nostalgic lately, and stumbled across this gem by New Radicals.

After refreshing my memories of the lyrics, this song strikes me in the gut as much now as it did back in the day, boogieing (that spelling seems way off, but spellcheck says it’s right, so it must be) on the Respectable Street Cafe dance floor. It immediately makes me think of people who I know will always have my back, even if I haven’t talked to them in years.

We always manage to pick up right where we left off, no matter how much time has passed.

I have never questioned this, and I know exactly who I can count on. And they know they can count on me as well. I maybe not be around for the day-to-day goings on, but when the shit hits the fan I’ll be right there with my boots on.

Happy Monday!

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#ThirteenforThursday with C.B. Clark

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Welcome author C.B. Clark for this week’s Thirteen for Thursday

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Who was your first book boyfriend?

Rhett Butler in Gone with the Wind by Margaret Mitchell. I loved that book and loved that man. The novel is 1,037 pages long, but I couldn’t put it down. Rhett was such a dashing hero, handsome, sexy, and a real bad boy.

What is your favorite music guilty pleasure?

Old time Country/Western music. I love all the old country songs, the twang, the heartbreak, the whiskey-roughened voices.

What is the most adventurous thing you’ve ever done while sober?

Canyoneering in Costa Rica down a 400-foot waterfall. My heart was thundering and my knees were weak. All I could think of was what if the rope breaks? It didn’t and I was pretty proud of myself for taking on that challenge.

[K.J. here – I. Would. Have. Died.]

Aside from writing, what different types of jobs have you done?

I worked as an archaeologist and conducted archaeological surveys and digs throughout Northern British Columbia. I’ve also taught a variety of subjects at the college, high school, and elementary levels.

When you were little, what did you want to be when you grew up?

My Grandmother gave me a book about Howard Carter’s discovery of King Tut’s tomb when I was nine. Ever since then, I wanted to be an archaeologist.

White chocolate, milk chocolate, or dark chocolate?

Any chocolate, anytime, any way, all the time.

If you could witness any event past, present or future, what would it be?

The day in 1922 when Howard Carter discovered King Tut’s tomb. I can only imagine the thrill of entering that musty tomb and seeing all those treasures that hadn’t been seen in thousands of years.

What is the first movie you remember seeing?

One Million BC starring Raquel Welch in all her fur bikini splendor. My family and I watched it at the drive-in movie theatre. I huddled in the back of our family station wagon in my pajamas terrified at all the man-eating dinosaurs.

Favorite Olympic sport?

I competed in Track in high school, so I enjoy watching Track & Field events. I especially love the decathlon. What superior athletes.

Spiders, friends or foes?

I don’t like spiders. Not. One. Bit.

What is the most interesting topic you’ve researched?

I write romantic suspense so I’ve researched many quirky topics for my novels. The most interesting one was poisons. There are so many deadly poisons, many untraceable.

You’re trying to find a brand-new author to read. What’s your decision process?

I read all genres, but my sweet spot is romantic suspense. After that, I look at the cover and read the blurb on the back of the book. I’m tall, so it helps if the book is on the top two shelves in a bookstore.

You have to move somewhere you’ve never been. Where would you choose to go?

Norway. It’s the world’s happiest country.

Bonus Round

What is your non-writing super power?

Making lists. I have lists all over the house. In fact, I made a list when I was preparing this Blog. There’s nothing better than crossing items off a long list as they’re completed.

What is your favorite movie quote?

“After all, tomorrow is another day.” Scarlet says this in Gone with the Wind. This quote shows the Southern belle’s fighting spirit. She’s beaten, but not destroyed. And maybe, just maybe, she’ll win Rhett back.

C.B.’s Online Playground

Blog https://cbclarkauthor.wordpress.com

Twitter https://twitter.com/cbclarkauthor

Facebook https://www.facebook.com/cbclarkauthor/

Goodreads https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/15029617.C_B_Clark

Amazon Author Page https://www.amazon.com/C.-B.-Clark/e/B01BK61TQG/

Author Bio

Broken Trust is C.B. Clark’s fourth romantic suspense novel published by The Wild Rose Press. My Brother’s Sins and Cherished Secrets were released in 2016, and Bitter Legacy in 2017. C.B. has always loved reading, especially romances, but it wasn’t until she lost her voice for a year that she considered writing her own romantic suspense stories. She grew up in Canada’s Northwest Territories and Yukon. Graduating with a degree in Anthropology and Archaeology, she has worked as an archaeologist and an educator. She enjoys hiking, canoeing, and snowshoeing with her husband and dog near her home in the wilderness of central British Columbia.

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#TellTaleTuesday with Peggy Jaeger & A Shot at Love

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Peggy Jaeger joins us today to share the story behind a scene from her novel, A Shot at Love.

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***Additional information from Peggy Jaeger in light of yesterday’s tragedy in Las Vegas***

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10/3/17 – Thanks for the shout out. Even though this is a work of fiction and Ky and Gemma are the good guys, I can’t help but be thoughtful and mindful about yesterday’s tragedy. This scene was written so that Ky would know Gemma could defend herself if she needed to. It was a venue for further impressing him about how adept and resourceful she is. Having said that, I am sensitive to what happened yesterday in Las Vegas and my thoughts, prayers, and wishes for the families and victims is uppermost in my mind. It’s been said too many times that guns kill people. I always respond: “Wrong. People with guns kill people.” I don’t want this excerpt to be an edict on gun control. I simply want readers to understand why I used it in the story.

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When I came up with the idea for Gemma Laine in A SHOT AT LOVE, I knew she was the sister everyone could categorize as The Warrior. Gemma is the one who would fight to the death for one of her sisters, defend them against bullies, and look the bad guys in the face without fear. Because I imagined her that way, I wanted her to be able to defend herself, if need be, since she is on the run from a mobster who wants her dead

When FBI Agent Kyros Pappandreos asks if she knows how to use a gun, Gemma nonchalantly tells him of course she does. She has a license to carry, and has been taught by the best – her brother-in-law Josh and his business partner Rick Bannerman. Ky wants to ensure she can defend herself if he is unable to, so he sets up a way for her to demonstrate her skills. This scene shows Gemma’s shooting proficiency.

And here’s the 411 on how I knew how to write this scene accurately.

Two years ago my husband had the idea that it might be a fun thing for us to do as a couple to learn to shoot. City slickers though we were raised, we now live in a rural area where guns are not uncommon. He felt it would be wise – plus fun – for us to learn about gun safety and to take shooting lessons. When I envisioned Gemma,  as I’ve said, I truly saw her as a warrior, so since she could defend herself with her martial arts skills, it made sense she could shoot a gun as well. I would never have known the terminology to use, or what it actually felt like to hold a gun had my hubby not pushed for us to learn those skills. Taking those lessons helped me walk the walk and talk the talk of shooting. And it added believability to Gemma’s character, so here’s a big shout-out to my hubby for the suggestion.

Blurb

Nothing’s impossible when love is on the menu. In Peggy Jaeger’s luscious series, the only thing more tempting than a delicious meal is a truly delectable romance . . .

Look for exclusive recipes in each book! 

Photographer Gemma Laine is looking for arresting faces on the streets of Manhattan when her camera captures something shocking—a triple murder. In that moment, she becomes a target for the mob—and a top priority for a very determined, breathtakingly handsome, FBI special agent. With deadlines to meet and photo shoots on her calendar, Gemma chafes at the idea of protection, but every moment she spends under his watchful eye is a temptation to lose herself in his muscular arms . . .

With two of his men and one crucial witness dead, Special Agent Kyros Pappandreos can’t afford to be distracted. But Gemma is dazzling—and her connection to Kandy Laine’s high-profile cooking empire makes her an especially easy mark for some very bad people. Keeping her safe is much more pleasure than business, but as the heat between them starts to sizzle, Ky is set to investigate whether they have a shot at love…..

Excerpt

“How many do I have to hit for you to be satisfied?”

Ky looked over to where she stood at the side of the garage, the Glock in her hand, its barrel aimed at the ground. Her eyes had gone wide at the hidden supply of weapons Bannerman had in the pantry access room, but her only comment had been a muttered, “Why am I not surprised?” before she’d made her choice.

He’d watched her load the clip, then weigh and balance the gun in her hand like she did it every day of her life.

“This’ll do,” she told him.

He found a box of empty beer and wine bottles in the garage and set them up at varying distances from where he’d told her to stand. He wanted to ensure she was comfortable shooting up close and far.

“All of them.” He came and stood next to her.

“Are you kidding? All of them?”

“You might never get a second chance if a first bullet misses an attacker, so yes. All of them.”

She moved to the line in the grass he’d drawn for her to shoot from, mumbling something he couldn’t hear, but guessing it wasn’t something complimentary.

“Ready?” he asked.

“Yup. Any particular order you want me to hit them in?”

He had to bite back the grin threatening to fly free at her snooty, disgruntled tone.

“Your call.”

Gemma nodded and took a stance. He wasn’t surprised when she angled her body with one foot slightly behind the other in a weaver stance and not a triangular one. The weaver was a more aggressive, weight-forward stance. Gemma held her gun up to her face, lining up her shot, both elbows bent and close to her torso. Her brother-in-law, Josh, had been a New York City cop, and if he’d taught her to shoot, it made sense he’d taught her this way. Although the triangular, or isosceles stance, was the more popular, Ky knew the weaver was a power stance, and Gemma was a woman for whom power could have been a middle name.

She flexed her shoulders and neck, the motion so subtly erotic, it made his pulse quicken, and shifted her weight. From his viewing position behind her, he appreciated just how tall and lean she was. Narrow shoulders were relaxed and tapered down into a waist no bigger than a hand span. How many times in the past few days had he thought what it would be like to slip his own hands around that tiny area and pull her in close? Too many for prudence, that was for sure.

The first bottle, the one he’d put the farthest from them, shattered into a thousand fragments. Before he could take a full breath, she’d hit the next two.

The final three closer ones she dispatched with equal ease.

When she turned to him and asked, “Satisfied?” in a tone filled with condescension, Ky had to physically restrain himself from running to her, lifting her up in his arms, and kissing the gorgeous smirk off her mouth.

Because he’d discovered how much he liked sparring with her—go figure that out—he pursed his lips and nodded. “Not bad.”

Gemma’s smirk grew into a self-satisfied grin.

“But they were all stationary targets. Really adept shooters practice with moving targets, so I really can’t gauge how well you’ll do with that. But for now, you’ll do.”

The squinty-eyed glare she aimed at him would have made a lesser man run for the hills.

“Trust me.” She dropped the empty cartridge case from the weapon into her free hand. “I can shoot those as well.”

He handed her another clip and watched as she loaded it.

“Let’s hope you never have to prove it to me.”

Gemma slapped the cartridge in place. Ky handed her a holster and waited until she fastened it around her waist.

After tightening it, she secured the gun, dropped her hands on her hips and asked, “Can we go now?”

She looked like a warrior armed for battle. Strong, self-possessed, and so bad-assed sexy standing in front of him, her bangs blowing back from the slight breeze surrounding them, her perfect chin tilted up defiantly. He could imagine her leading an army into a crusade against evil, each soldier following her blindly, minions pledged to fight for her, perhaps die for her, without hesitation.

And he’d be one of them.

Buy A Shot at Love at the following online retailers:

Amazon / Kensington / Barnes and Noble

Apple / Kobo / Google

Author Bio

Peggy Jaeger is a contemporary romance writer who writes about strong women, the families who support them, and the men who can’t live without them.

Family and food play huge roles in Peggy’s stories because she believes there is nothing that holds a family structure together like sharing a meal…or two…or ten. Dotted with humor and characters that are as real as they are loving, Peggy brings all topics of daily life into her stories: life, death, sibling rivalry, illness and the desire for everyone to find their own happily ever after. Growing up the only child of divorced parents she longed for sisters, brothers and a family that vowed to stick together no matter what came their way. Through her books, she has created the families she wanted as that lonely child.

Tying into her love of families, her children’s book, THE KINDNESS TALES, was illustrated by her artist mother-in-law.

Peggy holds a master’s degree in Nursing Administration and first found publication with several articles she authored on Alzheimer’s Disease during her time running an Alzheimer’s in-patient care unit during the 1990s.

In 2013, she placed first in two categories in the Dixie Kane Memorial Contest: Single Title Contemporary Romance and Short/Long Contemporary Romance.

In 2017 she came in 3rd in the New England Reader’s Choice contest for A KISS UNDER THE CHRISTMAS LIGHTS and was a finalist in the 2017 STILETTO contest for the same title.

A lifelong and avid romance reader and writer, she is a member of RWA and her local New Hampshire RWA Chapter.

Peggy Jaeger’s Online Playground

Website/Blog: http://peggyjaeger.com/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/peggy_jaeger

Amazon Author page: http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B00T8E5LN0

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Peggy-Jaeger-Author/825914814095072?ref=bookmarks

Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/peggyjaeger/

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/13478796.Peggy_Jaeger

Instagram: https://instagram.com/mmj122687/

 

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#MondayMorningMusic – Wrong by Depeche Mode

When I first wrote Yours Truly, any song mentions I included in the book were the first that came to mind – I went with my gut on most things, song choice included. Most of my original choices made the final cut.

But I had trouble picking a song that would fit Izzie to a “t”. She’s sort of a quirk of nature – with no qualities that truly stand out, except maybe for her absolute clumsiness – she is, as intended, something of an everyman.

Ultimately, I wanted a song that would speak to Izzie being on the outside of things. Like many women, she dated someone who was a complete jerk, but lacked the self-confidence to realize she deserved better. While it’s only hinted at, she has a track record of dating the wrong men. Her down-to-earth demeanor is no match for Cardwell’s celebrity (or at least what she thinks Cardwell’s girlfriend should be like).

Which is how I ended up with Depeche Mode’s, “Wrong”. It’s the song I play for myself on my birthday every year – I tend to be on the outside of most things… sometimes by choice, sometimes not. “Wrong” was such the right pick to start off Izzie’s story, I’m almost irritated it took me so long to realize it.

If you haven’t yet checked out Yours Truly, get thee hence! 🙂 And skip down to the video to get your toes tapping.

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Print

The Wild Rose Press / Amazon

E-Book

The Wild Rose Press / Amazon / Barnes and Noble

BookStrand / Kobo

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Depeche Mode – Wrong from Depeche Mode on Vimeo.

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#ThirteenforThursday with Rachel Brimble

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Welcome author Rachel Brimble for this week’s #ThirteenforThursday

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What is the best book to movie adaptation?

Forrest Gump by Winston Groom – it is one of my favourite all time movies, starring one of my all time favourite actors, Tom Hanks. I have lost count how many times I’ve watched this movie – I absolutely love it.

What is one fun fact about yourself very few people know?

I haven’t had my hair professionally cut since my wedding day in 1998 – my hair is so curly, I can get away with my daughter giving it a quick trim with the kitchen scissors every now and then, lol!

[KJ here – color me jealous! I’ve always wanted curly hair! Yours is *gorgeous*!]

If you could be the opposite sex for the day, what would you do?

Bask in the ability to not get so emotionally caught up in day to day life! I am a real worrier and because I write, I’m sure I see the most dramatic possible outcome in every situation. Based on the men I know and love, most have a way of taking a step back and analyzing a situation logically. I am terribly irrational sometimes.

What is your favorite smell and why?

Mulberry – I have an endless supply of candles in this scent because it reminds me of cold winter nights, lounging in front of the fire with a good TV show or movie or a great book. I find mulberry very relaxing.

What is the best thing that is also the worst thing?

Writing! I absolutely love my job, it’s my joy, my happiness, my spirit BUT it can also be painful. The waiting for publisher responses can be a killer, sometimes taking months at a time and, even then, a rejection could be received. No matter how many times I think I’m giving it up…it pulls me back in. Writing, for me, is a compulsion!

What was your favorite toy as a kid?

It wasn’t a toy as such, but the best gift I ever received – my dad brought me an electric typewriter when I was around twelve or thirteen. I absolutely adored it and that’s when I started to believe I would one day be a writer.

What is the one skill you don’t have, but wish you did?

I wish I could paint! I admire art so much and would love to spend hours in the countryside painting landscapes. Maybe when I have more time, I’ll join a class but for now it’s just fantasy. I can write and knit, but that is about it for my creative output, unfortunately.

If you won the lottery, what would you do?

First, I’d take my family, my husband’s family and our closest friends on an extended cruise around the Mediterranean or Caribbean and then I’d start house-hunting for a place in the country…oh, and pay off the mortgages of all the people I love.

How far away do you live from your birthplace?

Not far at all! I was born on the outskirts of Bristol, England and now live near the famous city of Bath. It is a forty-minute drive from my childhood home where my parents still live to where I live with my husband and two teenage daughters today.

Star Wars or Star Trek?

Neither – I am not a sci-fi type of person AT ALL!

What is your favorite time of year and why? Spring, Summer, Autumn, or Winter?

I’m a summer girl through and through – which probably comes from living in the UK where hot, sunny days often feel like a rarity. I love nothing more than taking my laptop into the garden and writing with my beloved chocolate Lab at my feet. Bliss!

[KJ here – I know what you mean! I spent a year in Scotland doing my masters and I swear there was exactly 1 week of summer weather! I miss the UK, though, dreadfully!]

If you could travel anywhere, where would it be and why?

I really want to see more of Italy – I’ve been to Venice and Verona which I loved, but would also like to visit Florence, Rome and Lake Como. I find Italy intensely romantic and peaceful. I would really like to ‘research’ a possible book series there – the ideas are most definitely brewing.

Which famous person have you met, and what is the story behind it?

I met Nora Roberts when she hosted a special, ticket only afternoon tea in the beautiful Ashford Castle in Ireland. She is my favourite romance author and I was desperate to go, but couldn’t justify the cost of the flight/hotel to my husband…and then he surprised me by booking it behind my back. Lord, I love my man! It was an amazing overnight stay and I had a short and sweet conversation with my writing idol. It was a time I’ll never forget.

Bonus Round

Would you rather wear combat boots or heels?

Heels – but I do love my flat, knee-high suede boots too. I have a LOT.

What film or book gave you an intense emotional reaction?

I think the only book to ever make me cry was The Lovely Bones by Alice Sebold – as a mother of two young girls, this book really hit me hard and the tears were flowing. I couldn’t stop hugging my kids after finishing this book. A really emotional read.

Rachel’s Online Playground

Website

Blog

Twitter

Facebook

Facebook Street Team – Rachel’s Readers

Amazon Author Page:

https://www.amazon.com/Rachel-Brimble/e/B007829ZRM/ref=sr_ntt_srch_lnk_1?qid=1490948101&sr=8-1

Goodreads:

https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/1806411.Rachel_Brimble

Author Bio

Rachel lives with her husband and two teenage daughters in a small town near Bath in the UK. After having several novels published by small US presses, she secured agent representation in 2011. Since 2013, she has had seven books published by Harlequin Superromance (Templeton Cove Stories) and an eighth coming in Feb 2018. She also has four Victorian romances with eKensington/Lyrical Press.

Rachel is a member of the Romantic Novelists Association and Romance Writers of America, and was selected to mentor the Superromance finalist of So You Think You Can Write 2014 contest. When she isn’t writing, you’ll find Rachel with her head in a book or walking the beautiful English countryside with her family. Her dream place to live is Bourton-on-the-Water in South West England.

She likes nothing more than connecting and chatting with her readers and fellow romance writers. Rachel would love to hear from you!

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#TellTaleTuesday with Veronica Blake and Superstition

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Author Veronica Blake joins us to share the story behind her novel Superstition

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After writing eleven historical romances, I was ready to try something different.  I love paranormal as much as I love history, so I knew my next writing venture was going to involve vampires.  Ever since I was a little girl and watched my first Dracula movie with my mom and aunt I’ve been a fan of the Prince of Darkness and everything related.  I imagined my vamps living in a secluded and mysterious locale, so my original plan was to set this book in some exotic place like a Greek island.  But then, I started thinking about all the places I had already studied while doing research for my other books, or the places I had actually visited in the past.

The most extensive research trip that I’ve ever taken was when I was writing my third and fourth books, Savage Dreams and Apache Tigress.  Those books were about the Jicarilla Apache who lived in Eastern Arizona.  I was fortunate at the time to know a wonderful lady who had once been a teacher at the school on The White Mountain Reservation, and she offered to show me around.  She took me to places on the reservation I’m sure most tourists never have a chance to see up close.  We explored everything from remote desert rock formations covered in shiny black stones called ‘Apache Tears’ to ancient ruins that can only be seen from a certain spot on the reservation.   It was an amazing adventure.

During one of our tours, we stopped for lunch at a McDonalds in the town of Apache Junction, about 35 miles from Phoenix.  I was looking out the window when a rugged mountain range caught my attention.  I asked my friend about them and she told me they were the Superstitions.  Even in the midday sun the craggy peaks looked mysterious and menacing to me.  I told myself someday I was going to write a book about those spooky mountains.  I just never imagined it would be over two decades later before I would finally follow through with that plan.

When my friend reminded they were also the location of the Lost Dutchman Goldmine, I was completely captivated.  I’ve always been fascinated with the history of the Old West, so I had definitely heard of the Lost Dutchman Goldmine.  However, I didn’t know a lot of the details regarding the mine.  Even from a distance, though, just looking at those spooky mountains fueled my imagination.   But, at the time I was consumed with writing my two historical Apache romances, which took place on the reservation and in Mexico.

Seven more Historical Romances followed my two book Apache series, and truthfully, I sort of forgot about using the Superstitions as the setting in one of my books.  Occasionally, I would come across an article, or see something on TV about unexplained deaths and disappearances, or someone who believed they had found new evidence leading to the location of the legendary goldmine.  Since the 1880s gold seekers have been trying to decipher the clues left by Jabob Waltz—a gold miner who claimed he had actually found the mine.  He kept the location a secret, but left cryptic clues to its whereabouts.  Whenever I would see or hear about one of these new theories or discoveries, I would remember my plan to write those enigmatic mountains into a story.

When I started working on my first paranormal romance I began to research the Superstitions with renewed interest.  They weren’t in some exotic location, but I remembered how menacing those mountains had seemed to me all those years ago.  Even more intriguing to me was how fact and fiction have woven together numerous eerie accounts of the goldmine or treasure that is supposedly hidden somewhere in those mountains.  Is there a rich cache of gold hidden there by early Spanish conquistadors or is there truly a priceless vein of gold ore concealed somewhere in the stone interior?  The Apaches believe in the mine’s existence.  They are certain anyone who finds it will die.  And, countless lives have been lost in the harsh mountain range.  The exact number is not even known.  Many gold seekers just disappeared without a trace.  Some think the goldmine is haunted by ghosts.  Others think demonic entities protect the entrance to the treasure.   The one thing everyone does agree with—anyone who ventures too close will pay the ultimate price.

So, I started thinking what if it weren’t ghosts or demons guarding the treasure?  What if it’s vampires? That’s when I knew I had found the perfect location and back story for my new book.  Best of all, I was able to combine my love of history with my love of the paranormal. Those scary mountains also provided me with the perfect title…Superstition.

Someday I hope to return to the Superstitions and actually hike on some of the trails I researched for my book.  Of course, I won’t be staying up there overnight.  Once the sun goes down the vampires leave the hidden caves at the top of the mountain and roam around looking for curious gold seekers who might get too close to the vast treasure they have guarded for the past two centuries.

Blurb

Treasure lies deep in the Superstition Mountains, but is it worth the price…

Mateo Two Moons’ family has guarded dark secrets and unspeakable horrors for centuries. His Apache Blood Clan is dhampyre—half human, half vampire. But he will risk revealing the truth concealed in The Lost Dutchman’s Gold Mine, exposing his entire family, and even his own existence to claim his human mate and change the perilous fate of his clan.

Dawn Malone’s move to Arizona to teach middle school has expanded her horizons. Meeting new people, hiking the desert wilderness, and the lure of gold fever in the old mine is exactly what she needs.  The handsome Apache she encounters seems almost too good to be true.  Mateo’s sexy, dangerous air draws her in, seducing her heart and soul. But her intrigue concerning the secrets he keeps turns to confusion and horror as she begins to realize the man she’s falling for could be something she didn’t even believe existed.

The scene behind the story

“I was really sure we would find something new today. I have those old clues left by Jacob Waltz memorized and I’ve studied that area so carefully; I just don’t know what I could be missing.” Chloe shook her head and added, “Maybe old man Waltz was just a crazy old fart, after all.”

She stood up and stared out toward the distant horizon as she repeated the clues for at least the tenth time today. “You have to crawl through a hole in the rock. From here you can see the Old Military Trail. You can’t see the mine from the trail. If you climb up a short distance you can see Weaver’s Needle. The setting sun shines on the gold in my mine. A rock face looks at my mine.”

Dawn forced herself up from the ground and stood beside Chloe and stared in the same direction where her friend’s attention was focused. Off in the distance the sun was nearly gone from the westerly sky as her gaze settled on the ominous shape of Weaver’s Needle. The protruding column of massive rock glowed in deep shades of orange and was surrounded by a shadowy purplish haze making it appear almost spiritual.

Today, they had been on the most treacherous trails she ever hiked, crawled through a hole in a huge rock shaped like a natural arch in one of the most rugged and remote places Dawn had ever been; Chloe led them to the barely visible path called the Old Military Trail, and they stared at the huge rock formation called Weaver’s Needle from the top of a jagged range of rocks for what seemed hours. But as hard as they tried, they could not find anything resembling a face in any of the surrounding cliffs or rocks.

Chloe continued to gaze off into the distance as frustration and disappointment became evident on her tired face. Dawn felt at a loss for words. She kept thinking about all the research she had done about this area in the past few days, especially the parts about the curse of the Lost Dutchman Mine, and how it was allegedly guarded by unfathomable evil forces that would never allow anyone to live if they should ever find it.

It creeped her out to think of how many lives had been lost in these mountains looking for a goldmine that might be no more than someone’s wild imagination. The exact number of missing or dead was not even known for sure, since many explorers and hopeful gold seekers just disappeared without a trace.

Being here in the heart of these hidden recesses and rugged terrain, however, Dawn could definitely understand how someone might easily become lost or fall into one of the deep caverns and never find their way out of this dangerous rock maze again.

Where To Purchase

Amazon / The Wild Rose Press / Barnes and Noble

Veronica’s Online Playground

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/Veronica-Blake-Writer-266206860220484/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/VeronicaBlake53

Blog: https://veronicablake1423.wordpress.com

Goodreads author page: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/104302.Veronica_Blake

Amazon page: https://www.amazon.com/VeronicaBlake/e/B0034OW8PY/ref=sr_tc_2_0?qid=1496253795&sr=1-2-ent

Author Bio

I’ve spent my entire life in a small town in the Colorado Rockies.  Outdoor activities such as hiking, riding my ATV and camping are my favorite things to do.  I’m a proud mother of three gorgeous adults, and grandmother to four amazing grandchildren.  Hopefully, no matter how old I get, I will always consider myself to be a hopeless romantic and a seeker of endless adventure.   Life, family, friends and music are my inspirations.

My published books include: Texas Rose, Desperado Desire, Savage Bite; Apache Tigress, Texas Princess, Cheyenne Temptress, Colorado Passion, Yukon Love Song, Black Horse, White Owl and Superstition.

I’m working on the second book in a Paranormal Romance Series, entitled The Blood Clan. Superstition, the first book in this series was a June 9, 2017 release by The Wild Rose Press.

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