Friday, January 30, 2015

Rookie Season






Today's post is a Virtual Book Blast Tour for Rookie Season, an Erotic Romantic Suspense by V. K. Robbins. As a Book Blast, there will be no guest post or interview, but I will have a blurb, excerpt and author information for you. I will also post the list of participating blogs for the tour as well. 

The author will be awarding a $25 Amazon/BN GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour.


Veronica Robbins is a published author of both fiction and nonfiction who has been writing professionally for the last 20 years. In addition to writing fiction and poetry (her first love), she is also an expert grant writer and copy writer.  When she's not writing, she's watching baseball, enjoying her children, reading, and trying to train her dog, Handsome, who so far has been very successful at training her. You can follow Veronica on Facebook or through her blog, A Writer's Journey.

Blog/website:   http://veronicarobbins.com


Twitter:            http://twitter.com/veronicarobbins






Buy links:
 






Blurb for Rookie Season

Talented young ballplayer Clay Love has just been called up from the minors to play major league baseball. Freelance writer and divorcée Rose Lasting, the world's biggest baseball fan, wasn't expecting to fall in love when she fell into Clay's arms, but fall in love she did. Now they are caught up in a whirlwind romance complicated by the paparazzi, Clay's ex-girlfriend, Rose's ex-husband, and a stalker who puts Rose's life in grave danger. Saving her life and catching her attacker takes you on a roller coaster of emotion and intrigue that you won't soon forget.

Rookie Season is the first book in the Love in the Ballpark Series, by V.K. Robbins. This adult erotic romance tale sizzles with romantic and sexual chemistry, emotion, and suspense. Once you start reading, you won't be able to put it down.


Excerpt from Rookie Season

Lots of unexpected things had happened in my life. When Joel walked out on me after ten years of marriage that was unexpected. When my grandfather died a few months later that was unexpected, too. It seemed like all the unexpected things in my life weren't the good kind. Until now.

            The game moved slowly. Painfully so. Then there were extra innings. I wanted to pound my head on the railing. The only real bright spots were when Clay ran out to take left field. I sat on the edge of my seat and watched his long easy stride. Did he really ask me out? I asked myself again and again. Twice during the game he'd run over to the stands on his way to the dugout and give me the ball he had just caught. The first time he leaned forward and whispered in my ear, "I can't wait to see you later." The second time, he handed me the ball and playfully whined like a little kid, "When is this game going to be o-o-o-ver?"

            I was thinking the same thing. That's when Sam chimed in again, "There's no way he's twenty-five. No way." I rolled my eyes and sat down. It looked like Sam was falling into one of his melancholy moods, the kind that started hitting him out of the blue after his wife passed away. But even that couldn't ruin my excitement.

            Finally, the game ended. By that time, I didn't care about the final score or who won. I hurriedly said goodbye to Sam and jogged my way up the stairs, dodged a bunch of people, and jumped over a few seats to get to the stadium exit.


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Thursday, January 15, 2015

Wild Marauders MC






Today's post is a Book Blast for Wild Marauders MC, an erotic Biker Romance from Tory Richards. As a Book Blast, there will be no guest post or interview, but I will post the blurb, an excerpt and a bit about the author. Tory will be awarding $25 eGift Card for Bath and Body Works or Starbucks Coffee to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour, and I will post the participating blogs for more sneak peaks at this one.

I’ve often referred myself as a grandmother who writes smut, but I'm also a daughter, sister, mother, aunt, friend, and author. For as long as I can remember I’ve wanted to be a writer. When I was ten I penned short stories on notebook paper, graduated to a manual typewriter at thirteen, then an electric one somewhere around seventeen, and finally my first computer in my forties.

I was a closet writer. I didn’t share my stories or hobby with anyone because it was personal and a kind of therapy. Not until I was in my forties did I pursue a publisher, and that was at the encouragement of my daughter and niece.  The result of that was my first contract offer for a sweet romance that ended up being a best seller on the publisher’s website for two months.  That full length contemporary romance is available at Amazon under the new title, Kiss Me!

 I was born in Maine, live most of my life in Florida, and retired from Disney. My free time is spent with my family, friends, and penning tales of erotic romance. I believe in happily ever after and a hot, wild ride to get there!

Amazon Author Page - http://www.amazon.com/Tory-Richards/e/B002DBFNUQ/ref=ntt_athr_dp_pel_1

UK Amazon Author Page - http://www.amazon.co.uk/-/e/B002DBFNUQ

Smashwords Author Page - https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/toryrichards
Tory Richards Website - http://www.toryrichards.com

Tory Richards Website/Blog - http://www.toryrichards.com 


Blurb for Wild Marauder MC

When a prospect kidnaps Kat thinking she's a doctor, Kat finds herself under the protection of the club's president. Lynch likes Kat's spunk and full curves but when she steals his Harley to escape he has no choice but to follow club rules and deal out punishment. Tempers erupt between them, passions explode, and punishment becomes the sweetest ecstasy!


Excerpt from Wild Marauders MC

I waited for him to speak.

“I hope you’re going to be a good little girl until I sort this shit out.”

I stiffened. I was anything but little. Sure, I was short, which made for a fuller figure than I would have liked. At twenty-seven I was comfortable with it, until someone brought attention to it by making a comment. In the old days I'd run away to cry in a corner somewhere when the skinnier girls, like the stuck-up cheerleaders I’d gone to school with, had called me fat. These days, a reference to my full figure didn’t bother me. It was the “good little girl,” part that fired me up, and if I was going to be honest, my unwanted attraction to him.

I tossed my long hair over my shoulder. “Then maybe you’d better take me home now and save yourself some grief. I’ve never been a good little girl, and I don’t intend to make things easy for you.” It was a threat and we both knew it. They were only words, empty meaningless words that I knew deep down I couldn’t possibly back up. The only thing I had going for me was my smart mouth, brains, and a nature that wouldn’t let me give in without a fight.

The slightest curve of his sensuous mouth didn’t fool me into thinking that he’d found my comment funny. His gaze zeroed in on my boobs, and I felt an immediate and unwelcome response from my nipples. Traitors! If that wasn't bad enough, something warm and wet flowed from my core to my panties.

“I’m not afraid of you,” I said, drawing his attention back to my eyes. I was only afraid of what he made me feel. I couldn't understand where it was coming from, but I had a feeling that he had this effect on every woman.

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Monday, January 5, 2015

Coming Your Way...The Love Brothers





Welcome too the Launch day post for Liz Crowe's Love Brothers. No guest post or interview will be posted, but there will be blurbs and excerpts from books one, two and three, along with links to participating blogs. Liz will be awarding one commenter the Grand Prize consisting of $60 in Amazon Gift Cards, ebooks and other prizes. A Second Place prize will also be awarded with Amazon Gift Cards and books.


Amazon best-selling author, beer blogger and beer marketing expert, mom of three, and soccer fan, Liz Crowe lives Ann Arbor. She has decades of experience in sales and fund raising, plus an eight-year stint as a three-continent, ex-pat trailing spouse.
Her early forays into the publishing world led to a groundbreaking fiction subgenre, “Romance for Real Life,” which has gained thousands of fans and followers interested less in the “HEA” and more in the “WHA” (“What Happens After?”). More recently she is garnering even more fans across genres with her latest novels, which are more character-driven fiction, while remaining very much “real life.”
With stories set in the not-so-common worlds of breweries, on the soccer pitch, in successful real estate offices and at times in exotic locales like Istanbul, Turkey, her books are unique and told with a fresh voice. The Liz Crowe backlist has something for any reader seeking complex storylines with humor and complete casts of characters that will delight, frustrate and linger in the imagination long after the book is finished.





Blurb for Love Garage (Book 1)

Antony Love is the quintessential responsible oldest brother of a boisterous, Italian/Irish family, placed in charge at a young age by his parents who are busy running the family business. He manages his siblings with a fair but iron hand, until his life is shattered by personal tragedy leaving him the shell of the man he once was.

When outspoken matriarch Lindsay Halloran Love falls ill, the youngest brother Aiden shows up at Antony's garage, having dropped out of school (again), needing work and a place to crash. Antony provides both, with three caveats: "Don't smoke in my truck, don't be late for work, and don't mess with my girlfriend."

But Aiden Love, budding novelist, gets one glimpse of Rosalee Norris, young widow of Antony's lifelong best friend and all bets are off.

Set in horse country near Lexington, Kentucky, The Love Brothers Series is a saga of family devotion that runs as wide and deep as the Ohio River--except on Sundays when brothers Antony, Kieran, Dominic and Aiden work out their frustrations on the basketball court, Love brother style.

Excerpt from Love Garage

Love Garage opened bright and early the next morning, a Saturday, a day Aiden had hoped to spend recovering.

“I get so many oil changes and random small jobs on Saturdays, it doesn’t make sense to be closed and let the jackasses with the Quickilube at Walmart get the business,” Antony insisted when Aiden groaned with dismay upon being awakened after two hours of drunken sleep. It didn’t help that the awakening occurred at the business end of a thrown pillow. “Get up, Romeo. You owe me rent money.”
He did, slowly, queasily hitting a shower, sore all over, his skin mottled from bug bites. But nothing topped the glorious agony of a bourbon hangover like the one that had him firmly in its evil grasp.
He slouched out the door, cursing Antony, cursing Tricia, cursing her ex-husband for throwing her in his path last night. But mostly cursing his own weak-ass uselessness. He rested his head against the cool comfort of the truck window until Antony hit a bump or two, which sent extra pain jolting down his spine.
“Sorry,” his brother muttered, glancing over at him.
“No, you’re not.”
“Got me there. And you’d better warn me if you’re about to toss your cookies. I won’t have that in my vehicle, got me?”
Aiden rubbed his neck and nodded, swallowing the urge to throw up all over the pristine interior on principal. “Why d’you hate me so much? You used to like me.” He stared over at his brother, heart thumping, ears humming, throat closing up with nausea. He despised waking up still drunk.
“I don’t hate you.” Antony turned onto the main road headed into town.
“Could’ve fooled me. You’re a real asshole anymore. Worse than Dom.”
Antony merely shrugged, not rising to that tried-and-true bait. So they spent the rest of the ride to the garage in silence. Once there, Antony sat gripping the wheel. Aiden waited, hoping he’d get something out of him—something he would assure him that the man he thought he remembered as the protective, funny, and loving guy he’d grown up with still existed inside the guy walking around wearing Antony’s skin.
Finally, he let go of the wheel, exhaled, and squared his shoulders as if prepping for battle. Aiden made a mental note to talk to Kieran about how badly Antony had descended into his life of non-stop mourning and jerk-hood.
“So, Rosalee, not putting out for you or what? You need to get laid maybe? Knock the edge off?”
The glare Aiden got for saying those particular words did make him worry Antony might punch his aching head through the passenger-side window.
He clenched his jaw in the way Aiden remembered from their childhood. “That is so far outside the realm of your business as to be in another galaxy. Get to work and don’t say her name to me again.”
And with that, Aiden was left with the fleeting thought that mentioning Rosalee directly was probably not a good idea. He surely didn’t need Antony to guess that her name was on his lips, or front and center of his mind.
He shook his head—a Bad Plan because it summoned the pounding agony back with a vengeance. Groaning, he climbed out and shuffled over to the door.
A new day began at Love Garage.

Blurb for Coach Love (Book 2)

The smoldering intensity of first love ~ the forbidden fantasy of temptation ~ the cold hard facts of real life.
When one man’s hopes are dashed apart in a split second after years spent chasing a dream, he returns home to Kentucky furious at the world and everyone around him.
 Kieran Francesco is the middle son of the volatile, tight-knit Halloran-Love family. His role as peacemaker and the one true athlete is well established. He now faces life devoid of the sport he adores after a horrific, career-ending accident, which places him in a new and entirely uncomfortable position—that of the brother with no future.
Over the course of a few tumultuous months Kieran is plunged back into life at the center of the Love family, where he must cope with one self-destructive brother, one ill-timed reconnection to an old flame and a series of bad choices that land him in more trouble than he’d ever known existed.
COACH LOVE, book 2 of The Love Brothers, a family saga of sibling loyalty that runs as deep and wide as the Ohio River—at least until Sunday, when Antony, Kieran, Dominic and Aiden work out their frustrations at the weekly Love brother pick-up basketball game.

Excerpt from Coach Love

As he drove the twenty or so miles from his parents’ house into town Kieran’s head began to clear. The windows were down and the tunes cranked. The sun shone. Signs of summer--one of his favorite seasons--were all around him. Parks packed with families, all the basketball courts and swimming pools overflowing. The sight of a gaggle of boys on bikes riding alongside him for a while, singing along with whatever random, crappy rap song currently polluted the airwaves made him smile.

“Hey, it’s Kieran Love!” one of the punks shouted after a few blocks. “Can you come over and shoot a few with us?”

He waved and drove on, gratified but sad, the sound of their cheerful unhappiness at his refusal filling his ears, taking the stretch of four lane road at seventy miles an hour, pressing the gas pedal to the floor, the throaty, powerful roar of the car’s engine revving him from head to toe.

It would be all right because he and Melinda loved each other. They had from the moment they’d met. He passed some grandpa in a Toyota, as the deep green fields surrounded by picturesque white fences and dotted with horses filled both sides of his vision.

He’d been home and recuperating from radical knee surgery with the best prognosis he could hope for after such a nasty break--to walk normally, much less play the occasional pick up game. His depression had been deep, wide, and terrifying. He woke every day at his parents’ house, unwilling even to get out of bed, not that he could without help for the first few weeks.

Antony had tossed a laptop computer at him one day when he’d been sulking, unshaven, and eating an entire bag of potato chips, something he’d not done since the age of ten when his fate--bound for basketball fame and fortune--had been determined.

“Here, find a job, find a date, find something,” he’d said before yanking the empty chip bag away and smacking Kieran’s head hard enough to make his ears ring.

“Ow. Leave me alone, asshole. I’m grievously injured,” he’d said, not caring about the swear-free zone he inhabited.

“That’s three dollars young man,” his mother had called out from the kitchen.

“You live with this, jerk, and see how you feel about finding ‘a date.’“ He’d hooked his fingers around the words, heart in his throat at how badly he’d wanted to call Cara right then.

But by the next weekend he was caning and limping his way toward the door to some faux-fancy Italian restaurant in Lexington, rubbing his freshly shaved face and trying not to sweat through his dress shirt. The woman from the internet site sat at the bar, twirling an olive-laden swizzle stick in her martini glass, long, slim, bare legs crossed, feet encased in sky-high patent leather heels. He’d exhaled, beyond relived that he’d not been cat-fished by some troll, or worse, a dude.

He’d hesitated then, something in him telling him to turn around and leave, fast. But at that moment, she’d flashed him the whitest, most perfect smile he’d ever seen and he’d been hooked. He still didn’t know how. They’d gone out for three weeks before she let him kiss her. It’d been another three weeks before he got anywhere near her tits. It had been a solid four months before he scored but that encounter had been, in a word, epic.

Melinda liked to talk dirty, wear heels and a garter belt while he fucked her. Loved doing it with all the lights on and in semi-public places. She gave head like a pro at first, before he’d given her an engagement ring.

Her bitchiness had come across as extreme decisiveness, sort of hot in way, he’d admit, since he tended toward the spontaneous and unplanned--”wishy washy” as he now understood it thanks to Melinda’s re-categorization of his personality. Her tight grip on her emotions and her surroundings, the OCD way she ordered her life did grate on him at times but he figured she tolerated his innate sloppiness and willingness to wake on a Sunday without a plan in place for the rest of the day. When he realized he sat across from her at some overpriced, hipster restaurant near her office after going out with her for eight months, ready to present her with a ring he could barely afford, it had shocked him without seeming to even faze her.

“Well, of course I’ll marry you, but you’ve got to find a better job,” she’d drawled as she sipped her champagne.

“A new job?” He’d gotten the teaching gig at his old high school and couldn’t imagine any job he’d want or like better. She made six figures for Christ’s sake, at least he thought she did.

Elated, drunk with lust and achievement, he’d tried to get his long legs adjusted under the small table jammed between all the others and covered with small plates of “tapas” which, best he could tell were “appetizers” only twice the price and half the helpings.

“I’ll do anything you want, Melinda. You saved me, honest to God you did.”

She’d fluttered her inky black lashes and gazed at him with an expression that convinced him he’d made the drastic move for the right reasons. The following year had been a combination of frustration, anger and high school level blue balls. The double drama Antony and Aiden had foisted on the Love family during that time hadn’t helped but it had distracted him. He’d taught his classes, helped out with the basketball team pro bono without telling Melinda and had been happier than he’d ever been as a pro athlete.

The fact that she maintained her uber-bitch persona around his family killed him. But he was hooked.

Still.

Mostly

Blurb for Love Brewing (Book 3)

Every family has one—the black sheep, the problem child, the prodigal. But Dominic Sean Love could teach all of those guys a lesson or two. Stuck in the middle of a boisterous group of siblings, he’s given “acting out” a new meaning from the day he drew his first breath.
While he’s the one son who follows his strict father’s footsteps into the Love family business, he’s also the one who butts heads with him the hardest. Their epic clashes are the stuff of family legend. But they have made peace and work side by side to take Love Brewing to the next level of success.
Until Dominic does the one thing his father can never forgive.
Diana Brantley has been Dominic’s friend, girlfriend and ex-girlfriend so many times she’s lost count. When he shows up at the farm she’s slowly transforming into a wildly popular farm-to-table resource for restaurants all over the U.S. her first impulse is to shoot first and ask questions later. But she doesn’t. And their lives entwine once more, for good, bad and ugly.

Excerpt from Love Brewing

Dominic would give anything be able to talk to Kieran. They’d gotten close in the last months since he’d required a rather alarming rescue from a jail down in Georgia and his brother had shown up, very few questions asked.  But no, Kieran had his own issues and likely at that very moment was busy trying to convince his high school girlfriend to marry him, even as she stood dressed and ready to marry someone else.
He had to squeeze his eyes tight shut to banish images of Kent for the zillionth time.
 “You need dry clothes,” Diana said, interrupting his pity party.
He shrugged and kept his gaze fixed on the view of rain. “Your garden looks like shit. When’s the last time you bothered to pull weeds?”
She snorted. He smiled. He used to love it when she’d do that. He’d honestly had no intention of showing up here today. The Brantley farm remained way off the beaten track, if the track around Lucasville could be considered “beaten” in any way. When he’d raced out of the stifling hot sanctuary and hotwired Kieran’s car he’d driven off without a single thought in his addled head other than “escape.”
But when he’d finally released his death grip on the steering wheel he’d looked through the windshield and found himself facing the old two-story farmhouse where he’d lost his virginity—not to Diana but to her sister Jen, an older version of the girl he’d been hanging around with since God was a boy. The whooshing sound that had deafened him for the last couple of days had receded ever so slightly at the sight of the place.
He’d not been anywhere near it in over six years, ever since he’d run out here to find Diana when Gina had bolted for New York. Her reaction to his surprise visit had been decidedly less hostile then. He groaned and ran a hand down his wet face.
No one to blame but yourself for this reception, numb nuts.
 As if on cue, the dog whined and bumped his leg with its huge muzzle.
“Bossy bitch,” he said softly, giving her another scratch behind the ears. The animal gazed at him adoringly. Yeah, dogs always did love him. He glanced up and caught sight of Diana tugging on a shirt that looked way too big for her. The sight of it sent a thrill of something he didn’t want to acknowledge as jealousy down his spine.
You have less than no place being jealous of anything about her, he reminded himself. She stared at him as she buttoned up the light blue, obviously man-sized shirt. He had to restrain himself from blinking too fast at the onrushing memories that threatened to mow him down.
“Put on a few pounds eh Di?” he said, leaning back against the rough barn wall. The dog practically crawled up onto the hay bale and laid its head in his lap. Damn thing weighed over eighty pounds and smelled like rancid pond water, but he didn’t stop it. 
“Fuck you,” she said, turning away and giving him a lovely view of the backs of her slim, tanned legs. “Come up to the house and get some dry clothes on, you dumbass.” She stood there, wearing that shirt that made his chest hurt, pondering where it had come from, her legs bare and beautiful. It made him want to weep. He set his jaw and turned away from her.
“I missed you and your ladylike ways,” he said, almost absently, as he turned back to study the rain that pounded the window. “Ow!” The towel pop flicked his neck, then his thigh. “Damn girl, you on your period or what?” He rubbed his leg and noted that he was, indeed, soaked through and could use a change of clothes. Too bad he hadn’t thought of that when he ran away from what remained of his former life.
“I can feel your crybaby BS from clear across this barn,” she said.
He turned fast, angry at her words. But her gaze comforted him. And suddenly, he realized why he’d found himself here, on what could be labeled as the worst day of his sorry-ass thirty years.
“How’d marriage work out for ya,” he said, shoving the dog off his lap and getting to his feet.
“How d’you think? I mean, I’m sure it was the talk of the town.” She kept staring at him, not moving. For a split second, Dom found himself headed toward her, needing to feel her skin, taste her lips. But he stood, keeping the four or so feet between them, the dogs milling around their ankles making worried noises. An errant drop of water fell from a lock of hair over his eyes. The moment felt fraught and he cursed himself for causing her pain, again. And again.
“Well, I guess the guy was lucky to escape with his balls intact,” he said, finally. “You’re still as ugly as homemade sin,” he lied.
The corner of her lips lifted. He let himself exhale.
It was on now. And he knew she’d let him stay as long as he needed.



And coming late summer 2015: FAMILY LOVE (ebook, audio and print)

LOVE BROTHERS TRAILER HERE:



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Thursday, December 18, 2014

The Cowboys of Copper Mountain





 Today's post is a Book Blast for The Cowboys of Copper Mountain...this boxed set is currently only $.99 for the Kindle on Amazon. As a Book Blast, there is no guest post or interview, but I do have blurbs, excerpt and author info for you. The authors will award a $25 Amazon GC to one randomly drawn rafflecopter winner (international giveaway)






USA Today, and New York Times bestselling author of 47 romances and women's fiction titles, Jane Porter has been a finalist for the prestigious RITA award five times, with her Tule Publishing novella, Take Me, Cowboy, winning the Novella Category July 2014. Jane today has over 12 million copies in print, including her wildly popular Flirting with Forty, a novel picked by Redbook Magazine as it's Red Hot Summer Read in 2006 before being turned into a Lifetime movie in 2008 starring Heather Locklear.

Jane holds an MA in Writing from the University of San Francisco and makes her home in sunny San Clemente, CA with her surfer husband three sons, and two dogs. You can learn more about Jane at janeporter.com.

 

LINKS:

Jane’s website – www.janeporter.com

Facebook – https://www.facebook.com/authorjaneporter

Twitter – https://twitter.com/authorjanep

Pinterest – http://www.pinterest.com/thejaneporter




USA Today bestselling author Katherine Garbera is a two-time Maggie winner who has written more than 65 books. Writing is the chief focus of her time after her family and the only thing she likes more than working on her own books is reading other authors.  She is a frequent speaker at conferences and loves the opportunity to talk about writing with anyone who'll listen. A Florida native who grew up to travel the globe, Katherine now makes her home in the Midlands of the UK with her husband, two children and a very spoiled miniature dachshund.

LINKS:

http://www.katherinegarbera.com website


https://twitter.com/katheringarbera

http://www.pinterest.com/kathygarbera/

http://instagram.com/katherinegarbera



Melissa McClone has published over thirty romance novels with Harlequin and Tule Publishing Group. She’s also been nominated for Romance Writers of America’s RITA® award. When she isn’t writing, you can usually find her driving her minivan to/from her children’s swim practices and other activities. She also sends care packages to deployed service members and fosters cats through a local no-kill animal shelter. Melissa lives in the Pacific Northwest with her husband, three school-aged children, two spoiled Norwegian Elkhounds and cats who think they rule the house. They do!

LINKS:

Website: http://www.melissamcclone.com

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

Twitter: https://twitter.com/melissamcclone

Pinterest: http://www.pinterest.com/melissamcclone/



A Cowboy For Christmas by Katherine Garbera

 

Annie Prudhomme never expected to be back in Marietta, MT and her family is fond of reminding her that she left them and the town behind in search of better things. A humiliating divorce that cost her everything she’d gained has driven her back home and her family isn’t about to welcome her back into the fold. She’s in town to rebuild the old home that she inherited and to move on once again.

 Carson Scott never forgot Annie or the way she left. Now that she’s back in town he’s realizing that the old flame still burns hot but he can’t risk his heart the way he did last time now that he has his son to think about it. Being trapped together during a December snowstorm gives them a chance to rekindle their romance but is Annie back for good or is she just looking for a cowboy for Christmas?

 

Christmas At Copper Mountain by Jane Porter

 Since the loss of her family in a plane crash, Harley Diekerhoff has led a quiet life and keeps to herself. Taking the temporary job at the Copper Mountain Ranch as widower Brock Sheenan’s housekeeper seems perfect for her. But her calm cocoon is invaded with the arrival of Brock’s pre-teen twins, Mack and Molly who’ve never experienced a proper Christmas and before she knows it, Harley’s determined to make their holiday perfect.

Annoyed at first by Harley’s interference, Brock is secretly pleased she’s changed Mack and Molly’s world. It doesn’t hurt that he finds Harley incredibly attractive, fierce, smart and passionate. It’s also an added bonus that she’s not afraid to challenge him and get his blood heated! But when sparks fly and the attractions sizzles between them, Harley’s not so sure she can handle something permanent with this dark, taciturn cowboy who doesn’t know how to let her in. But Brock is determined to hold on to her and praying for a Christmas miracle…

 

Home For Christmas by Melissa McClone

Ginger, nutmeg and cinnamon.

Rachel Murphy loves the scent of gingerbread baking almost as much as she enjoys creating custom edible houses at Christmastime. But she needs a bigger kitchen if she wants to make the most of her impromptu holiday business.
 

Enter Nate Vaughn, handsome venture capitalist turned Montana dude ranch owner and her brother’s boss. Nate’s commercial kitchen is perfect for the baker. And he thinks she might be perfect for him…as a business partner.

After being burned by a celebrity baker, Rachel’s wary of Nate’s interest in her gingerbread houses, not to mention his mistletoe kisses. She should leave the Bar V5 ranch and return to Arizona. Or can Nate convince her she’s already home?

Mistletoe Magic by Melissa McClone
 

Spending a quiet Christmas housesitting and reading novels about hot cowboys sounds perfect to Caitlin. Until a stray kitten brings her face-to-face with Noah, her crush from college. Watching the handsome vet in action melts Caitlin's heart and brings back long-forgotten emotion. She would be safer back at the house lost in the pages of a book. But a toe-curling mistletoe kiss tempts her to stay. Maybe she won't be spending this Christmas… alone.

Veterinarian Noah Sullivan isn't a Scrooge, but the Christmas Eve tradition of hanging mistletoe in the clinic's waiting room annoys him. Kissing doesn't belong at the Copper Mountain Animal Hospital. Noah rethinks his position when Caitlin Butler arrives with a stray kitten she found freezing in the snow. All he wants now is to maneuver the pretty preschool teacher under the mistletoe. If he's not careful, he'll wind up on Santa's naughty list.

 
Excerpt for Christmas at Copper Mountain:
 
“You okay, Miss Diekerhoff?”
Turning quickly, potato skins still dripping, Harley blinked back tears as she spotted Brock Sheenan standing by the fireplace, warming his hands.
Brock was a big man.  He was tall–six one or two—with broad shoulders, a wide muscular chest, and shaggy black hair.
Harley’s late husband, David, was Portuguese and darkly handsome, but David was always groomed and polished while the Montana rancher seemed disinclined to comb his hair, or bother with a morning shave.
 
The truth was, Brock Sheenan looked like a pirate, and never more so than now, with tiny snow flakes clinging to his wild hair and shadowed jaw.
“I’m fine,” she said breathlessly, embarrassed.  “I didn’t hear you come in.”
 “The faucet was on.” He rubbed his hands together, the skin red and raw.  “You’re not….crying…are you?”
She heard the uncomfortable note in his voice and cringed a little.  “No,” she said quickly, straightening and squaring her shoulders as she dumped the potato peels into the garbage.  “Everything’s wonderful.”
“So you’re not crying?”
 “No,” she repeated crisply, drying her hands.  “Just peeling potatoes for dinner.”
Her gaze swept his big frame, seeing the powdered snow still clinging to the hem of his wrangler jeans peeking beneath his leather chaps and white glitter dusting his black brows.  His supple leather chaps weren’t for show.  It was frigid outside and he’d spent the week in the saddle driving the last herds of cattle from the back country to the valley down below so the cows could take shelter beneath trees.  “Can I get you something?”
 
“You don’t happen to have any coffee left from this morning that you could heat up?”
“I can make a fresh pot,” she said, grabbing the glass carafe to fill it with water.  “Want regular or decaf?”
He glanced at the clock mounted on the wall above the door and then out the window where the snow flurries were thickening, making it almost impossible to see the tall pine trees marking one corner of the yard. “Leaded,” he said.  “Make it strong, too.  It’s going to be a late night for me.”
She added the coffee grounds, and then hit the brew button.  “You’re heading back out?”
“I’m going to ride back up as soon as I get something warm in me.  Thought I’d take some of the breakfast coffee cake with me.  If there was anything left.”
“There is.”  She’d already wrapped the remaining slices in foil.  He wasn’t one to linger over meals, and he didn’t like asking for snacks between meals, either.   If he wanted something now, it meant he wouldn’t be back anytime soon.   But it was already after four.  It’d be dark within the hour.  “It’s snowing hard.”
“I won’t be able to sleep tonight if I don’t do a last check. The boys said we’ve got them all but I keep thinking we’re missing one or two of the young ones.  Have to be sure before I call it a night.”
Harley reached into a cupboard for one of the thermoses she sent with Brick on his early mornings.  “What time will you want dinner?”
“Don’t know when I’ll be back.  Could be fairly late, so just leave a plate in the oven for me.  No need for you to stay up.”  He bundled his big arms across his even bigger chest, a lock of thick black hair falling down over his forehead to shadow an equally dark eye.
 
There was nothing friendly or approachable about Brock when he stood like that.  His wild black hair, square jaw, and dark piercing gaze that gave him a slightly threatening air, but Harley knew better.  Men, even the most dangerous men, were still mortal.  They had goals, dreams, needs.  They tried, they failed.  They made mistakes.  Fatal mistakes.
 “Any of the boys going with you?” she asked, trying to sound casual as she wrapped a generous wedge of cheddar cheese in foil, and a hunk of the summer sausage he liked, so he’d have something more substantial than coffee cake for his ride.
 
He shook his head, then dragged a large calloused hand through the glossy black strands in a half-hearted attempt to comb the tangled strands smooth.  “No.”
 She gave him a swift, troubled look.
He shrugged.  “No point in putting the others in harm’s way.”
Her frown deepened. “What if you get into trouble?”
“I won’t.”
 She arched her brows.
 She ought to be intimidated by this shaggy beast of a man, but she wasn’t.  She’d had a husband—a daring, risk taking husband of her own—and his lapse in judgment had cost them all.  Dearly.
 “It’s dangerous out there,” she said quietly.  “You shouldn’t go alone.”
 


 
 

 

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