UPDATE: Debra, Jen, Kim, Colleen are all winners!

* * * * *

Happy Saturday! I hope you’re not working today. And that you don’t have a huge list of errands to run.

As for me, I plan to rush through my To Do List, get in a quick swim, and then head to my dd’s house to watch something spooky. Probably The Witch. I want a no-stress day after a week of chasing my tail and writing like a fiend.

This week, I finished one project, which is now in review/edits, but should be released early next week: With His Rock Band. Lots of naughty, over-the-top sexiness there! And I’m nearing the end of tweaks of my next SEAL story, Before We Kiss. It releases the 20th. If you haven’t already pre-ordered it, you should!

Comment for a chance to win your choice of
one of these stories! I’ll choose
three winners!

And if you haven’t read my shorties, check out the full list here!

The Morning Ride

A New York commuter shares lustful daydreams with another subway passenger…

Sophie played with the curls she’d formed in her hair, hoping he’d appreciate all the care she’d taken with her appearance. She wore a demure, sleeveless cloudy blue blouse, a slim navy skirt and tights—monochromatic colors were supposed to be slimming, and she wanted to be perfect. He was picking her up at her place, their first real date after a week of morning coffees.

Everything was going great. They’d agreed to take an earlier train each morning so they could stretch their daily meetings. They talked rapidly, in blurted confessions, then sat quietly drinking their coffee. Every day when they parted, he kissed her, each kiss more passionate than the one before. This morning, he’d drawn her hips close to his, and she’d felt his erection against her belly. He hadn’t minded when she’d pressed against it; his fingers bit into her hips.

He hadn’t said where he was taking her, but she hoped he didn’t have reservations he wouldn’t want to break. She’d spent the afternoon cleaning her apartment, changing her sheets, because she wanted him to stay. It was time to find out if reality matched fantasy.

Her doorbell rang and sent her heart racing. When she swung open the door, he was dressed casually in a long-sleeved, heather-colored Henley and jeans. In his hands were bags bearing the name of her favorite Thai restaurant.

His gaze slid down her skirt and silk blouse then back up. Heat glittered in his eyes. “I should have told you not to dress up. Sorry you went to the bother.”

She shook her head and spun. “Do you like it?”

“Very much.”

“Then it was worth the effort.” She pointed to the single button at the side of her skirt. “That’s all that’s holding it up.”

His chest rose. “Sophie, I’m trying to take this slow.”

She cocked a brow as she took the bags and walked to her kitchenette. “Bringing dinner to my apartment where we can be alone, that’s slow?”

He wrinkled his nose. “I was hoping to get to second base on the sofa.”

She laughed and reached for his hand. “We’ll eat after we’ve worked up an appetite.” Then she walked backwards down the short hallway to her bedroom. A single light shone on the stand next to her bed. The covers were turned down. “I was hoping you’d get considerably farther than second base.”

Daniel gave her a look that sent a rush of fluid to her pussy. His gaze was sharp, his cheeks tightening to blades. He gathered her closer, pulling her body against his, and bent his head.

She rose on tiptoe and met his kiss, winding her arms around his neck.

He raised her skirt, grabbed handfuls of her ass, and lifted her. She wound her legs around his waist and held tightly as he walked to her bed.

He came over her, roaming his hands over her clothing, squeezing her breasts, her hips, coming up between her legs to glide over her sex.

Sophie made a sound, a tiny mew, and he leaned away. “Too many clothes?”

She nodded, reaching for his shirt to drag it up partway until he pulled it over his head. His skin was pale as a stock-broker’s should be, but nicely muscled. Hair cloaked his chest, not too thickly, just right. She combed her fingers through it then circled his small nipples.

“You said there was a button.”

She guided his hand to her side and waited as he unbuttoned her skirt then unwrapped her like a present.

He stared at her tights.

“Not very convenient,” she said grinning.

“Not a problem.” He crawled off the bed then leaned over her, sliding his fingers under the waistband of her tights and peeling them down. When he bared her pussy, his gaze snagged, but he lingered longer staring at her thighs. “I’ve imagined them so many times. They’re lovely, rounded.”

She held her breath. Yes, she was carrying too much weight, and most of it landed on her butt and thighs. But his tightening expression signaled arousal. She came up on her elbows to watch him drag the tights the rest of the way off.

His gaze darted to her face then back to her pussy. He reached out and wrapped his fingers around her ankles and pulled her sideways until her legs dangled off the side of the bed. “Take off your blouse.”

She sat up, reached behind her to open the button at her neck, then pulled off her blouse. Before he could ask, she opened her bra and drew it down her arms.

His chest rose. His hands went to his belt and he unbuckled it, opened his pants, and pushed them down his legs. When he straightened, she felt a little dizzy. He was large. Just as he’d been in her dream. Thick and curving upward.

He bent over her, scooped her mouth with his, then pushed her backward, lowering to take a sprung nipple in his mouth. He suctioned, drawing until her toes curled, then backed off to tease her with flutters of his tongue.

“They’re pink. I knew they’d be pink,” he said, kissing across her chest to capture the other nipple.

She petted his thick hair, combing it and digging her nails into his scalp when he nibbled her tip.

Then he backed away again, going to his knees and spreading hers. He draped her thighs over his shoulders and kissed her inner thigh, an outer lip, before burrowing into her, his tongue licking around her entrance then plunging inside while he tweaked her clit with his fingers.

“Daniel,” she said, groaning. Reality was so much better.

When he rose again, he shifted her, urging her to the center of the bed. He cloaked himself then turned her and licked a hot trail down her spine. At her bottom, he bit each cheek. Just hard enough to make her quiver. He kissed her cunt and moved behind her, his cock prodding her, then plunging into her.

Sophie screamed, unraveling in a moment. His girth stretched her, his length plundered. Moisture flooded her channel as she bounced back to greet his strokes.

A clap landed on one side of her ass. Loud, but not really hard. It surprised her, made her freeze.

He leaned over back and whispered in her ear. “Did you like that, Sophie? Do you want another?”

Her pussy flooded with moisture, as much from the silky texture of his voice as the warmth of her ass. “Please.”

How many of you have a bucket list? *raises hand*

Isn’t it exciting when you’re able to check one of those items off? It’s not so much a feeling of accomplishment, like completing a project, it’s more a feeling of “wow – I always wondered what that would be like.”

Last month I was able to check an item off my list. A friend of mine offered me a ticket to go to San Diego Comic Con. That may not seem like a big deal to you, but it was to me. I’d been trying to purchase tickets for years and had started to think that it would never happen. And wow! What a trip! It was everything I had hoped for even though I didn’t get to do half of the things I could have. There was just soooo much to do and see there.

The cosplay costumes, speakers, celebrities, displays, and artwork. There was so much to see it was actually overwhelming. Not to mention the number of people. Holy Cow!

The experience was something I’ll never forget. But isn’t that what makes the bucket list so powerful?

One of the other things on my list is travel to the UK and Ireland. I haven’t been able to get there yet, but I can write about it. Check out my haunted Irish castle in my paranormal romance titled Ghostly Persuasion.

Ghostly Persuasion

Katie Ward came to Tullamore Castle in Ireland to fulfill her mother’s last request. When she meets the sexy spirit who frequents her suite she is drawn into in his plight. Despite a lifetime of denying her abilities she uses her time at the castle to unravel the mystery of his curse.

Seamus MacDonhnaill had been a woodworker at Castle Tullamore during one of the original expansions. Now, because of the selfish wants of scorned woman, he is cursed to wander the grounds in spirit form. After centuries alone, he’s elated to learn the beautiful American tourist staying in his favorite suite can not only see him but communicate with him.

The two are drawn closer as Seamus reveals not only Tullamore’s history but also the carnal delights to be found in the secret corners of the castle. Katie is determined to break the spell on him before returning to America. To do it she’ll have to enlist the help of the local witch and a few castle ghosts but a chance at true love is worth the risk.

Amazon: – https://amzn.to/2cteW9U
All Romance – https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-ghostlypersuasion-2093754-340.html
Goodreads:  https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/31820460-ghostly-persuasion

So what’s on your bucket list?

Fall is my absolute favorite time of year. I love the crisp air, the vibrant colors of the leaves as they turn, the harvest of corn and pumpkins, and the first hot chocolate after the summer.

It’s also a time of new beginnings. Kids are back at school and routines get back to normal after summer vacation. All of our favorite television shows come back on after the summer hiatus—I’m really looking forward to the second season of Lucifer. We all try to fit back into our normal routines, often having to make adjustments for new activities or schedules.

Anything seems possible in the fall. There’s a vitality, a sense of urgency that seems to permeate everything. At least that’s how it feels to me. I love to walk and kick the leaves covering the ground. (I know I’m a big kid and I don’t care.)

More so than New Year’s I feel like fall is a good time to make changes, to try something new, to take a chance on a new activity. I think it’s because the leaves are dying and the trees and plants around me are changing. It’s all part of the circle of life, reminding me that change is inevitable. It’s up to me to embrace it.

And like me, the characters I write must also deal with change. Neither Sage or Rina know just how much their lives are about to change when they meet…

Wolf in his Heart

He’s a wolf where it counts—in his heart and in her bed.

Salvation Pack, Book 7

Exiled from her wolf pack for rejecting her parents’ choice for a mate, Rina Matheson has been on her own for over a year. Now she’s running for her life from a man who knows what she is and is obsessed with hunting her down.

Sage Gallagher—organic farmer, half-breed werewolf, and member of the Salvation Pack—finds more than a lost hiker while camping in the Great Smoky Mountains. So much more. Instant attraction slams through him with knee-buckling power the minute he sees Rina. His first instinct is to get her home where he and his pack can protect her.

Rina doesn’t trust easily. Especially not half-breeds, who she was raised to consider abominations. But Sage’s quiet strength calls to her lonely soul, and amazingly enough, her wolf responds. As he slowly works his way past her guard, she is soon in danger of losing her heart—even as danger draws closer to taking her life.

Samhain Publishing: https://www.samhainpublishing.com/book/5823/wolf-in-his-heart
Amazon: https://amzn.com/B01AVGJRVU
Barnes & Noble: https://goo.gl/Aa39M2
ARe: https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-wolfinhisheart-2015499-140.html
Kobo: https://goo.gl/dnPIDm

About the Author

N.J. Walters is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author who has always been a voracious reader, and now she spends her days writing novels of her own. Vampires, werewolves, dragons, time-travelers, seductive handymen, and next-door neighbors with smoldering good looks—all vie for her attention. It’s a tough life, but someone’s got to live it.

Visit me at:
Facebook Author Page: https://www.facebook.com/N.J.WaltersAuthor
Website: https://www.njwalters.com
Blog: https://www.njwalters.blogspot.com
Twitter: https://twitter.com/njwaltersauthor
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/NJWalters
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/author/njwalters
BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/n-j-walters

This wasn’t my intended post for the blog today. My intended post was titled, “Death by Laundry” and was about the escapades of the weekend with my daughter’s abundance of clothes. Before I got around to sending the post to Delilah, I got news that a friend had died of cancer. It shocked me because I didn’t know how close she was to the end and it broke my heart because she was so young, was such a beautiful person, and should have had her whole life ahead of her. So I decided to pay tribute to Jill Bronson Fillion in the best way I know, through my writing.

The tribute dates back to a year ago, when I had a story in my head about a strong, independent, caring woman who moves back to her childhood hometown and gets a second chance with her first love. The character had been born, but she needed a name.

I can’t write a story about nameless characters, so while I thought about it, I puttered around Facebook. As I scrolled through my newsfeed, I found a post from Jill, reminiscing about a post she’d shared a year earlier and celebrating her present health. While my heroine’s story was very different from Jill’s own story, the two women shared a lot of the same qualities: strength, resilience, a big heart, a bright smile. It was perfect, I would name the character Jill and pay tribute to a woman who seemed to have beaten cancer.

After I published Marrying for Love, I made plans to meet up with the real-life Jill to give her a copy of the book. To further pay tribute, I dedicated it to her and her brave fight against cancer. She was honored and my only regret is I didn’t have my picture taken with her.

I knew her cancer had returned and I knew the prognosis was grim, I just didn’t realize how far down the road she’d traveled. My heart broke when I heard the news today that she died on September 3^rd. I can’t imagine the sadness her family feels…her husband, her son, her sister, her parents. She was a bright soul in an often dark world who fought a brave fight against a disease she didn’t deserve.

Jill isn’t the only one who has honored me by being a namesake to a character in my Superstitious Brides series. In my August 30^th release, 3^rd Trip to the Altar, I named the heroine Tristin after a former colleague who was killed in 2011 in a freak bicycle accident. I was inspired to write 3^rd Trip while listening to a radio dedication on my way to walk in Tristin’s Live Laugh Love Memorial 5K. In the book, Tristin’s best friend Cynthia Munn was named in honor of two friends battling breast cancer, both of whom started their fight in the exact same month over 18 months ago.

And since we are talking names, my daughter has the honor of naming most of the pets in these books, so when you meet Jill’s dog Buttercup (Marrying for Love), Maddie’s horse Crystal (For the Love of Chocolate), Brent’s raccoon Rascal (3^rd Trip to the Altar), Courtney’s dog Humphrey (The Perfect Pairing, available in the Romancing the Wine box set), Clairissa’s yet to be named yellow labs (Taking Back Good-bye, coming in October), and Clint’s dog Digger (Mistletoe Marathon, coming November 1 in Spicy Christmas Kisses 2).

Be at peace, Jill. I will think of your smile and kind heart every time Jill Butler-Hale makes an appearance in my Superstitious Brides series.

By the way, Jill is in EVERY book in the series, so grab your copy to honor this brave woman.

I’m giving away a copy of Tall, Dark, & Loaded, the Billionaire Boyfriends box set in which Marrying for Love was originally published with five other novellas. To enter the drawing, complete the form linked here. If you are in the U.S., I’ll also send a signed copy of Marrying for Love.

Here’s an excerpt from The Perfect Pairing that features Jill.

Courtney found Jill and Austin in the kitchen, each with a cup in their hands, courtesy of Cyn. She was always the gracious hostess, even when heading out the door.

“Good morning. Sorry, I overslept.”

“So I heard,” Jill cooed. “Making out with your boss will do that to a girl.”

Oh, she was so going to kill Cyn for that one. “It was the wine.”

“Don’t blame the wine. You need a little nooky, Courtney.”

“Oh my gosh, I don’t need…”

“Can we get down to business?” Austin cut in, saving the day. “We need to hit the road.”

Jill laughed. “Come on, babe, we talked about this and you agreed that Courtney needed to loosen up a bit. Nooky is the perfect way to unwind.”

“You think I’m uptight?” she asked.

“Not uptight. Focused,” Austin insisted.

“I’m close to finishing my degree. I need to be focused.”

“And I commend you for it,” Austin said, clearly trying to stay neutral. “Now, you ready to meet Humphrey?”

“Yes, please. Where he is?”

“Erik’s got him out in the field. Poor guy is a mess. His fur is all nappy and matted and he is malnourished, but he has spunk. You’ll love him.”

Austin snickered, raising Courtney’s hackles. “Define spunk.”

Jill jabbed her husband in the side with her elbow. “He’s very affectionate. Like I said, you’ll love him.”

Courtney would be the first to admit she had trust issues, but Jill had become a good friend, one Courtney trusted implicitly except when it came to how she described the pets she needed Courtney to foster. Every single one of them had had an issue that no one in their right mind would want to deal with. Based on Austin’s snicker, Humphrey had some sort of issue too.

“Here’s all the information we were able to gather. I trust you’ll get it into the database.”

“Of course,” Courtney replied, taking the handwritten notes. She had created the database for the rescue as a project for her Green Marketing course. The shelter now operated paperless, saving them money on ink, paper, and other office supplies while being able to brag about being an environmentally friendly non-profit. Jill was still old-school, though, and kept a small notebook instead of using one of the tablets.

“He can’t be left alone,” Jill added as Courtney skimmed the notes. “He needs a little food and water every hour. We have a crate for him. You’ll want to put him in that even if you’re only going to the bathroom. He’s a runner, so keep him on a leash when you take him out.”

“Got it.” Courtney stuffed the note in her pocket and started for the door. She wanted to be to work early, so didn’t want to waste any more time.

She saw Erik out in the field, but the grass was too tall to spot the dog. Austin called to his son and Erik came running. When they reached the lawn, which was freshly cut, the little ragamuffin dog appeared, keeping pace with his running mate.

Cyn was right, the little terrier was adorable, but as they got closer, Courtney saw how right Jill was too. He was in desperate need of some grooming and food. “Do you know how old he is?”

Jill shook her head. “Not sure, but Clarissa said she’d stop by to check him out anytime this weekend. Just give her a call.”

Clarissa Dean was their friend and local veterinarian who offered her services free of charge to the rescue. “Will do. I have to work today, but I’ll work something out with her.”

Erik slowed to a walk and handed the leash off to Jill before stepping back. Austin stepped back too. “What’s going on?”

“Just giving you some space to get to know him,” Austin said. Based on Erik’s chuckle, Courtney knew there was more to it than that, but the dog just licked her face and wagged his tail. Nothing out of the ordinary there.

“Jilly, we need to get going,” Austin said.

“Right. Good luck. We’ll be back next Sunday, but call if there are any problems.”

“I can handle it,” Courtney assured Jill.

“I know you can. Have fun. Keep me posted on things with your boss.”

“Nothing to keep you posted on,” she replied, turning her attention to Austin. “That reminds me. You don’t have any Black Vines wines on your wine list at the tavern.”

“I tried, but Neil had an ax to grind with my father, and therefore with me. He said he’d be dead and buried before any of his wines were offered at the Hale.”

“Well, Aiden wants to change that.”

“Good. Call Sadie and set up a meeting.”

“Thank you,” Courtney said, her cheeks aching from the smile. She knew Austin would be receptive and couldn’t wait to get to work and let Aiden know.

Erik grabbed the small crate from Austin’s shiny truck and handed it off to Courtney.

She debated whether to call Aiden and ask permission to bring Humphrey to work or to just show up. As she’d learned in the air force, it was better to ask forgiveness than permission, so Courtney put the pup in his crate and jumped in the shower. When she was dressed in slacks, a more practical pair of shoes, and a nice blouse, she headed out the door, only to realize she didn’t have a car, or a ride.

About the Author

Big dreamer and certifiable overachiever Susan Ann Wall embraces life at full speed and volume. She’s a beer and tea snob, can be bribed with dark chocolate, and the #1 thing on her bucket list is to be the center of a Bon Jovi flash mob.

Susan is a national bestselling, multi-genre author of racy, rule-breaking romance and women’s fiction. Her bragging rights include the Fighting Back for Love series, Puget Sound ~ Alive With Love series, Superstitious Brides Romance series, Sunset Valley Women’s Fiction series (coming soon), and Devon Taggart Suspense series. She also likes to boast about her three perfect children, two amazing rescue dogs, and a happily ever after that started while serving in the U.S. Army and has spanned two decades (which is crazy since she’s not a day over 29).

In her next life, Susan plans to be a 5 foot 10, size 8 rock star married to a chiropractor and will not be terrified of large bridges, spiders, or quiet people (shiver).

www.authorsusanannwall.com
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It’s the day after Labor Day, and I’m having to come to terms with the fact the pool is cooling. Sure, we’re going to have 90-degree weather this week, but the shorter days mean longer nights where temps in the 70’s are going to spell the death of another swimming season. I hate, hate, hate giving up my daily swims.

Is there something you hate about the changing season, summer to fall?

My daughter’s ready not to sweat. She wants sweater weather. She wants to put up the Halloween tree and decorations (our Halloween tree is a counter top metal tree that we hang Strangeling Ornaments from). Fall is her favorite season and her reason is two-fold: relief from the heat and Halloween!

Is there something you love about the changing season?

And while you contemplate those questions, here’s a sneak peek at Before We Kiss…

A hand settled at the back of her neck. Fingers played with the tendrils of hair that slipped from the clip she’d used to secure her up-do. From the corner of her eye, she watched as Wiley shifted in his chair, moving closer toward her, while maintaining his conversation with Captain Lundt regarding his training and the ships he’d commanded before being hired by the Countess line. Polite conversation, but his questions were intelligent. All the while, he touched her lightly, keeping her in that state of awareness that had continued unabated since he’d dragged her to the ground outside the bus. Was this attentiveness all part of the act? Ensuring the other passengers and the crew, not in her father’s pocket, believed a romance had been struck between them? And they’d believe it. He’d lost his hat, his scruffy beard. Tonight, he wore a white button-down shirt and dark slacks—looking as handsome as a man straight out of a romance novel. The breathy sighs and interested stares from the women seated at the tables around them said they were buying the story, hook, line and sinker.

Poppy had no doubt where this was leading. Him in bed with her. That was inevitable, but was that result because he wanted to be there, or because he wanted to insert himself into her life aboard ship to keep her safe—and amenable to his care?

She wished she knew. She really did. But she admitted to herself the outcome wouldn’t change a thing. Once they returned to her suite, clothes would drop. Period. Needs she’d denied for too long would be addressed. Desire tugged at her belly, and she pressed her thighs together. She had no doubt he’d be well able to see to her pleasure.

Again, he shifted. “Have you seen enough?”

His warm breath brushed across her cheek. She knew what he meant. The meal, served in courses, had been splendid. The menu plentiful and varied. Service itself had been impeccable, and the dining room beautifully appointed. The lighting was perfect, but subdued. Music played in the background, but nothing that would draw passengers’ attention from their conversation at their tables. “Yes. This has been nice.” She smiled at the three older gentlemen who weren’t very good at pretending that they weren’t tracking Wiley’s every gesture. They each fought knowing smiles. She cleared her throat. “I suppose we could excuse ourselves,” she whispered, angling her face to meet his gaze directly.

His dark eyes studied her expression. His mouth tightened. “Then let’s make our farewells.” He moved away, pushed back his chair, then stood to help her from hers.

The other men at the table rose, the captain’s eyebrow rising as his gaze went to Wiley.

But since she wasn’t looking at the man whose hand rested possessively at the small of her back, she didn’t know what his expression might have conveyed. Instead of worrying, she took the time to shake the Marines’ hands and wish them a good night.

Once they’d departed the dining room and made their way down the long corridor toward the elevators, she drew deeper breaths, trying to calm her heart rate. She was really doing this. Sleep with a man she’d just met.

When the doors slid shut with a whisper, he took her hand in his and gave it a squeeze. “You tired?”

Her chance for an out—if she wanted to take it. She swallowed. “Not particularly.”

“Good.”

Silence stretched between them. When the doors opened, they both stepped out, and maybe they walked a little more quickly, but she didn’t mind. She already had her card key in her hand when they reached the her cabin’s door.

He waited as she opened it then followed closely behind her. When he closed the door, he touched her upper arm. “Wait here until I have a look around.”

“Right,” she said, hating the reminder of why he was really here.

Minutes later, after he’d checked both bedrooms, baths and the balcony, he returned to her and turned the deadbolt. “All’s clear,” he said softly.

At his downward glance, she wet her lips, anticipating that now they’d kiss.

But he gently cupped her shoulders. “Before we kiss…”

So he had been thinking about it, too. She raised her gaze to his.

“I just wanted you to know a couple of things.”

She nodded, but otherwise she kept silent. He would tell her he wasn’t the type to stick around. That she shouldn’t read too much into the fact they’d be making love. This encounter wouldn’t be love…

“I never cross lines. Usually, I don’t fuck the people I protect.”

Her mouth dropped a little at the f-word, but only because he’d been so blunt—and she hoped he wasn’t changing his mind about making her the exception. “I get that.”

“No, you don’t.” His brows creased. “You’re pretty. And female. Which doesn’t happen often in my job, but that’s not even why I’m here.”

Her mouth was drying. Maybe she ought to shut it before she blurted something humiliating. Like, we can talk…after.

“I just wanted you to know, that if you weren’t the job, I’d have been all over you by now.”

The way his voice deepened to a rasping growl told her everything she needed to know. First, that her neglected sexy bits didn’t need direct stimulation to grow aroused. Second, he was just as ready as she was. But while he was wrestling with his conscience, she wasn’t nearly as conflicted. Frank had abandoned her. She’d grieved long enough. She wouldn’t deny herself the pleasure of the well-muscled man in front of her.

Holding her gaze, he bent toward her.

Watching as he descended, she tilted back her head. But at the last moment, she reached up and pressed a finger against his mouth. “Before we kiss…”

He arched an eyebrow.

“You should know…” She bit her lip. “I haven’t been with a man other than Frank.”

He gave a sharp nod, but since she hadn’t removed her finger, he still held back.

“I have high expectations,” she whispered, then slowly dragged away her finger.

For Serious Readers: Let’s play a game…

Who Am I?

My hair’s a mess and I’m still in my robe at 4:30 in the afternoon. I have dark circles under my eyes and around my arm pits. I’m surrounded by a guilty mountain of discarded candy wrappers and a pill-inducing Mount Everest pile of … books.

That’s right.

I’m a book-aholic.

Lest you think my affliction is limited to the luscious inky smell of the print version of the seductive species, you would be wrong.

I have two kindles, an iPad, an iPad mini and a Nook reader. I’m seriously considering buying a KOBO reader, but I would need to stop reading long enough to get my credit card, type in all that delivery information an order the thing.

That’s right.

It’s a serious affliction.

And I love it.

Books are like my air. I breathe to read—wait—no—that’s not right. I live to read and I read to breathe. No. That’s not right either…

Whatever.

You get the picture. It’s in a book.

That’s right.

I’m seriously crazy—about books.

The thing is—no one takes it seriously. I hide it.

If someone’s comes over, I’ll dress. Comb my hair. Hide my book in my blouse.

If I go out, I read on my phone. Pretend I’m texting. I wear a hat and a long coat with deep book-filled pockets. It gets hot in the summer, but whatever. I keep my secret.

No one knows I chain read.

That’s right.

I’m a chain-book-reader.

My basement is filled with old books and I built an addition to the garage out back to store more. I’m running out of GBs on my hard drive and I’ve taken to the cloud where I have a commercial storage package.

If Amazon had a VIP high roller club, I’d be a platinum member.

That’s right.

Amazon knows my name.

Who are you?

That’s right.

I want to know what book you’re reading.

Beachcomber Heat

This summer’s heat wave on Martha’s Vineyard is breaking records–and so is the crime wave. A rash of jewel thefts creates a demand for more security than the police can handle.
Shana insists that Beachcomber Investigations take a case to protect the Gable’s jewels because she’s desperate for the big fee from their rich client.
Dane will do almost anything to keep her happy–and to keep her with him on the island.
Almost anything.
But the case turns dangerous when a dead body turns up and they find their ruthless old enemies are behind the thefts. Dane has to decide how far he’ll go to catch the thieves–and how far he’ll go to keep his partnership with Shana.

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About the Author

Stephanie Queen loves to play games—don’t take her seriously. Unless you want to read her books. She writes the romantic detective series BEACHCOMBER INVESTIGATIONS. The stories include some humor—no kidding—and lots of sizzle and suspense. You can find out all about her and her books at StephanieQueen.com.