Thank you for having me here, Delilah!

I’m Juno Rushdan and I write steamy romantic thrillers. My debut book, Every Last Breath, comes out April 30 from Sourcebooks Casablanca.

I first began writing while I was an intelligence officer in the Air Force. My husband, who was also in the military, had a tough round of deployments to Afghanistan at the same time we started a family. Handling two kids under the age of two with no support system was brutal, so I left the service. When we moved to the DC area and my eldest entered kindergarten, the idea for Every Last Breath came to me.

My time spent supporting special forces and poring over CBRN (chemical, biological, radiological, nuclear, and high-yield explosive) threat assessments and war-gaming response plans shaped the foundation for the Final Hour series. I tried to convey what it means to be called to serve and the sacrifices one makes through my characters. Readers will find themes that are dear to my heart, such as service before self and fighting for the greater good, along with plenty of action and a sexy romance.

Every Last Breath

48 hours
2 covert operatives
1 chance to get it right

Maddox Kinkade is an expert at managing the impossible for a clandestine agency. Tasked with neutralizing a lethal bioweapon, she must recruit the last person she ever expected to see again: her presumed-dead former lover. Cole Matthews can’t forget or forgive her role in a tragedy that ruined his life. Enlisting Cole’s help may be harder than resisting the attraction still burning between them, but Maddox will do whatever it takes. Soon they find themselves working side-by-side in a breakneck race to stop a world-class killer with a secret that could end everything.

The clock is ticking…

Read an excerpt.

Maddox crossed the room and crouched between Cole’s legs. “I never wanted you restrained, but they insisted.” The note of sincerity from her struck a sensitive chord in him he despised.

Holding his gaze, she patted down his legs, working toward his shins.

Her hand froze on the hilt of his knife. “Nice to see some things stay the same.”

She wriggled his pant leg up, pulled the Ka-Bar, and cut the flex-cuffs on his ankles. Casting a furtive glance toward the door, she hustled behind his chair and freed his hands.

Cole leapt out of the chair and whirled, pinning her against the wall with a hand on her throat, not hard enough to hurt her, only to compel a straight answer from her fork-tongued mouth. But an electric frisson skipped over his skin, stilling him. That magnetic pull to her revived. No matter how much time had passed, it’d never been extinguished.

Talk about fucked up.

“Don’t crowd me,” she said low and controlled, not a flicker of fear in her fiery eyes.

“Or what?”

Tapping on his inner thigh drew his gaze down. She had the tip of his Ka–Bar pointed at his groin. He glanced lower, noticing her shoes.

She wore black tactical field boots. The cushy, expensive kind.

Who had she become? “What’s going on, Maddox? Why are you with those men?”

“We don’t have much time before they come back.” Her gaze darted to the door. “You won’t be able to take the three of us.”

The words had an unexpected sting. “That’s the first time you said us not meaning you and me.” Damn, had that been his out-loud voice?

An unguarded look broke on her face, vulnerable and somber. “You’re the one who left and never looked back.”

She was the one who had wronged him. Every action he’d taken since had been justified. Still, there was a pathetic niggle of regret.

He forced his grip to slacken and stepped back.

She flipped the matte–black blade in her hand like a badass, handle pointing to him. A shimmer of pride and a hint of alarm seeped through him.

He took the knife and shoved it in the ankle sheath. As he stood upright, she handed him the key to his bike.

“I had them get your motorcycle. It’s parked on the west side of the house. Go out through the window. Lay low until nightfall, somewhere the Russians won’t find you.” Honest concern shone in her eyes. “Then come to my place. My address is written on a piece of paper in your pocket. You’ll be safe there and I’ll explain everything.”

She pressed her palms to his chest, her expression softening. He couldn’t help soaking in the bittersweet familiarity of her touch and the intimacy in her gaze. Emotions he’d buried in an unmarked grave in DC, where his previous life had ended, resurrected with a ridiculous kick.

“I need your help. It’s a matter of life or death. Please, come.” Her emphatic tone tugged at him, and he needed a swift boot heel to the head to snap out of it. “I’ll answer any question.”

“Any?” Just like that, she had him hooked. For him, any condensed to one. Why had she betrayed him?

She squeezed her eyes shut for a breath, the faintest quiver running through her, and nodded before glancing at the door. “Hurry, before they come back.”

He hesitated. Would she be okay alone with them?

It was insanity to be concerned for her. Then again, she’d always triggered his protective instincts. At one time, his entire world had revolved around Maddox, and her safety had been more important than his own.

He would’ve sworn by now he was immune to her, but she was an incurable disease out of remission and might put him six feet under for real.

*~*~*

“Every Last Breath is an electric combination of heart-stopping thriller and swoon-worthy romance.” -LEXI BLAKE, New York Times bestselling author

“A spine-tingling thriller you won’t want to put down! Rushdan is a talented new voice in romantic suspense.” -LAURA GRIFFIN, New York Times bestselling author

“Heart-pounding James Bond-ian adventure.” -Kirkus

“Intense and sexy—a must-read romantic suspense!” -CYNTHIA EDEN, New York Times bestselling author

“Rushdan’s fast-paced, gripping debut will…have readers eagerly waiting for the sequel to this arresting romantic thriller.” -Publishers Weekly (STARRED review)

Available for pre-order now:

Amazon: https://bit.ly/EveryLastBreath
Barnes & Noble: https://bit.ly/BN_ELB
Apple iBooks: https://apple.co/2EF3MJv
One More Page Books (for autographed copy): https://bit.ly/SignedCopyELB
Add to Goodreads: https://bit.ly/AddEveryLastBreath

Learn more about Juno at:

Website: Junorushdan.com
Newsletter: https://junorushdan.com/mailing-list/
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Twitter: https://twitter.com/JunoRushdan

Motivation has been lacking, so I thought maybe I should list what I want to accomplish this week so the world knows what I’m SUPPOSED to get done. Maybe someone will nag or ask, “Hey, did you finish…?”

Something has to give me that KITA I need. So, here goes…

1. Edit the rest of MJ’s story
2. Edit remaining 4 short stories for the Stranded anthology
3. Write 3 chapters of the next Montana Bounty Hunters story
4. Write a short story for Stranded
5. Revise, format, & upload Flashpoint into D2D
6. Revise Gilded Cage & prep for publication

Looks like a ridiculous list, but it’s what needs to be done to catch up. So…your job, should you accept the onerous task, is to nag, nag, nag me this week! 🙂

UPDATE: The winner is…Karen!
*~*~*

Let me tell you what I’d rather do than write. I’d much rather go junk shopping. See the “treasure” above that I found at a flea market? It has a heavy glass/crystal base with a lovely tarnished metal adornment depicting cherubs affixed to the top. Yup, a paperweight. I paid a buck for it, and I love it. I’d much rather comb through stalls for little treasures than sit my butt in a chair to write.

Here’s another couple of clues about what I’d rather be doing…

Those are both items I recently completed. I’d much rather make some more just like them. In fact, I’ve been on a whirling dervish reorganizing my very crowded, hoardery art room so I can make room to lay out a dozen projects I’m itching to begin—some painted, some beaded—all not the most important thing I should be doing, but so much more attractive to me at the moment.

I have been editing. And yes, MJ, I’m nearing the end of your story. I’m also working through edits of the stories that will appear in Stranded, which releases at the end of this month. It’s not crunch time yet, but I do need to light a fire under my ass, because I have to write a story for it, too!

And yes, I know I have a gazillion reasons, good ones, why I’m unable to commit to filling a page with new words. Grief, emotional exhaustion—all those things weigh a soul down. But it is true that for months and months I neglected my environment while I whipped through work and family obligations. I do need to restore order for my own peace of mind. (See? I’m making excuses for not writing!)

In the meantime, I’m setting little goals. Edit one short story. Edit 20 pages of MJ’s lovely novel. Then return to the art room to sort through the chaos.

So, here’s a question for you…

Is there anything you’re dragging your feet getting done?
Answer for a chance to win a $5 Amazon gift card!

Long before Marie Kondo was touting the joys of downsizing and living more minimal, I was clearing out clutter.

When I was growing up, I was probably the only kid I knew who never had to be told to clean their room. And every spring (and fall), on a Saturday afternoon, I’d close myself in my bedroom with the vacuum, a dust cloth, and a garbage bag. When I came out a few hours later, everything had been moved and vacuumed under or dusted. I’d have gone through my closet and bookshelves. Even though my bedroom was only about eight by twelve, I’d have managed to move some of the furniture around.

As an adult, I’m still the same. I’ve already started going through cupboards and closets getting things together for the big family yard sale we usually have every year over at my brother’s place. The thing is, tastes change. Things I’ve enjoyed for a few years may no longer suit my style. And that’s okay. I’ve used and enjoyed them and now it’s time to let them go. That makes space for things I do love. The yard sale is a fun family day and gives me a few dollars to put toward something I might like. What doesn’t sell gets taken off to charity. Everyone wins!

If you need a break from your spring cleaning, why not check out Embroidered Fantasies, the next book in my Tapestries series.

Embroidered Fantasies
Tapestries, Book 5

With her abusive ex-husband safely behind bars, Roxanne Sykes is trying to carve out a quiet life for herself. Just as she’s beginning to feel free to explore her new possibilities, word reaches her that her cruel ex has been released from prison. When he shows up at her door bent on destroying her, it’s only through the magic of a well-loved tapestry that Roxanne is whisked away to safety—and into the world of a warrior she’s known only from her fantasies.

Radnor Craddock has known only a life of violence and brutality at the hands of his older brothers. Now that they have fallen in battle, Radnor and his twin brother Sednar can finally put their house in order. Just as their efforts are bearing fruit, fate smiles upon them again by delivering a potential tapestry bride to their doorstep. Well aware of what they must do to win her hand and her heart, the brothers dedicate themselves to granting Roxanne every imaginable pleasure, driving her to sensual heights unlike any she has ever known.

With each new erotic encounter stirring a loving bond between the three, Roxanne is tempted to accept the promise of the tapestry and make a new life and new home with the brothers. But she has trusted before and been painfully wrong, and she’s frightened by the whisperings of the brothers’ violent past. Unsure of herself and threatened anew when her merciless ex finds his way to her once again, Roxanne must trust her heart as the brothers vow to protect her and destroy her ex—and to give her a life and love she had never dreamed possible…

BUY LINKS:
Amazon:
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07NLFVZYC/
Smashwords:
https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/929612
Barnes & Noble:
https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/books/1021397126
Kobo:
https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/embroidered-fantasies-1

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:
Website: https://www.njwalters.com
Blog: https://www.njwalters.blogspot.com
Newsletter Group: https://groups.yahoo.com/neo/groups/awakeningdesires/info
Facebook Author Page: https://www.facebook.com/N.J.WaltersAuthor
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Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/NJWalters
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BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/n-j-walters

I was one of those lucky children whose mother did not enforce gender specific activities. My brother and I, treated as equals, each participated in the same activities (with the exception of ballet, which my brother felt no interest in pursuing). I came home with skinned knees, ripped clothing (my poor mother, good thing she knew how to sew; a skill I never learned), and coated in dirt. While most girls my age were playing with dolls, I was building forts. However, I got to do the most interesting things; fencing, archery, rock climbing. I learned that I was capable of anything I put my mind to, that gender was not a hinderance. This independent spirit has followed me through life.

I was given a choice, a pinnacle moment in my life, when I decided to remain that way, instead of conforming to expectation. As a freshman in college, I lamented to my father that I was single (which really shouldn’t be the focus of a college freshman, but let’s be honest with each other). He gave me some fatherly advice. If you are interested in getting a boyfriend, you will need to learn to be less independent.

My jaw dropped. Learn to be less; less intelligent, less passionate, less of me.

I wrestled with that suggestion for a while. Could I be less of me?

In A Perfect Plan, I pose that question to my heroine, a tomboy who is struggling to fit into society. One of my favorite scenes is at one of those tedious society functions. Samantha is debating how to escape the party in which she finds herself trapped. What I love about her is that she doesn’t consider whether or not the activity is safe, but whether or not she could make it over the balcony railing before she is caught.

“May I ask you one question?” Lord Westwood gazed at her with a peculiar expression.

“Certainly,” answered Sam, tearing her eyes away from Wilhelmina’s glee.

“What were you concentrating on with such intensity when I threatened to tell the story of our first meeting?”

Sam glanced down, a red tinge crawling up the back of her neck, indicating the balcony with a slight jerk of her head. “Whether or not I could make it over the railing before Wilhelmina realized I was missing.”

“What did you intend to do once you climbed over the balcony?” asked Lord Westwood.

“I was planning to shimmy down the column, using the ivy as a rope.” Sam lifted her head, a tiny smile pulling at her lips. “She would never catch me once I reached the drive.”

Lord Westwood struggled to keep his face neutral. “Do you think about escaping ballrooms often?”

“More often than I would care to admit.”

“I suppose, as a gentleman, I would have to attempt to prevent you from injuring yourself even if that caused a public scene.” Lord Westwood clasped his hands behind his back, casting his eyes upward with a dramatic sigh. 

“Dragged away from the balcony in full view of society by Lord Westwood—that would definitely be one more mark against me,” murmured Sam.

A PERFECT PLAN is available on all platforms and on sale this week
for 99 cents.

About the Author

USA Today Bestselling Author Alyssa Drake has been creating stories since she could hold a crayon, preferring to construct her own bedtime tales instead of reading the titles in her bookshelves. A multi-genre author, Alyssa currently writes Historical romance, Paranormal romance, Contemporary romance, and Cozy mystery. She thoroughly enjoys strong heroines and often laughs aloud when imagining conversations between her characters.

Website: https://alyssadrakenovels.com
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I’m often asked, if someone wrote a song about you what would the title be?

My answer is that someone actually did, a few years ago.

“The Outsiders” by Eric Church.

Now, anyone who knows me knows how much I love the guy’s music. He uses words in a way that maximize the emotional impact of a song. His music, even the rowdiest, is always simple in lyrics, and honest. He never names a feeling, but wow, how those exact feelings are shown and wielded like a blade. Okay, my books ride along 60,000 words while a song has between one hundred and three hundred, but I wish I had his talent to show them.

His latest record, Desperate Man, is on repeat on my record player. I put it there when I bought the vinyl, and it still has to leave.

That being said, his song “The Outsiders” is for me. Only for me.

Mostly because I understand. Mr. Church is tad angrier than me, but it still works perfectly (I do am prone to anger, anyway).

I’ve always been an outsider, and I’m saying this with no rebellious attitude. Even less, looking for understanding or whatever else. It’s just what it is. Who I am, and I always lived the definition comfortably.

One way or another I’ve lived a loved life since day 1, I’m a happy, ‘solved’ person. My own person–which makes me an outsider.

I would go horse riding after school, and to pay for my horse’s full livery I shoveled a whole lot of horses’ manure. Okay, I loved doing it, and I would have done it even if I was rich enough to pay for that. I did so deliberately and not to spite the established cool kids’ gang, those going clubbing during the weekend and throwing parties. The cool kids were actually nice and always invited me–and I politely declined. It was simply what I wanted to go riding and shoveling, and didn’t care about what the others did. Nobody ever bugged me, by the way.

I went into law school because I love the idea, the nature, and the spirit of the law (that’s why I always say I’m no lawyer, I’m a scholar of law). And there, I found myself in a less-than-10%-female environment. Remember, we’re talking Italy 20 years ago. Even now, we’re not up there with Sweden and Iceland when it comes to women’s equality. Our centenarian professors, the holder of the dignity and rightness of a man-handled law world (can you hear the mockery here? Good), didn’t treat us girls with flowers and poetry. There were tiers of students, and we weren’t the top one. I didn’t care for that, too. I studied hard, had excellent grades, so much so I managed the entire time with full scholarships.

I have MS, don’t care about it either. The bitch tries to slap me down, I let it believe it’s winning. All the while, I work around it to my target. Yes, it takes me longer. Yes, it’s harder. But at the end of the day (or the week, or the month), I’ll have my way.

I married my high school sweetheart, not out of habit, to settle down, or even out of love only. I did it because he’s the only one who earned 100% of my trust. And he’s a badass.

I was a Country Music fan in the UK. Almost unheard of back then.

I’m an Italian in Florida. Even more, I’m an Italian mom in the States. Yes, it’s different.

Every step of the way, everything and everywhere I’ve ever gone, I’ve always been an outsider, looking at what the majority of people did and shrug it off if I didn’t like it. I never cared about anything anyone ever did, and that always made me different. A winner, sometimes. A loser, others. Eh, life, right?

The only pack I’ve ever lived with is the one made of my husband and son.

As Mr. Church says, I do my talking, walk my walk.

Which gets me in any number of troubles, really.

But then again, who cares? I’m sure I’ll come out of it, somehow.

Crescent Creek Collection
Special offer 99 cents

From the cold Canadian border, the US1 runs along the east coast with patience. Southbound, always south, until it reaches the Sunshine State.

Not the fastest way, sure, but if you have time to drive it all the way down, you might find yourself lost in one of the coastal towns that dot the US1 like little jewels.
Maybe that town’s name is Crescent Creek.

These are the stories of its people.

All Those Miles I Walked ~ Crescent Creek 1

At eighteen, DJ made a choice–her heart or her dreams. Neither was wrong, yet either would break her heart. She chose the world. Over a decade later, she returns to Crescent Creek and to the one regret she’s ever had–Scott.

Scott’s always been steady as a rocky reef. He’d loved once and when she’d left, his strong heart had crumbled like a sandcastle. Now DJ is back, and Scott wants nothing to do with her. If only Eva, his and DJ’s old friend, didn’t need their help. Because of her, he’s stuck with DJ and he’d be damned, she still gets under his skin.

DJ is a free spirit who needs the road under her feet. Scott is a family man who wants to groom his roots. With danger on their doorstep and a baby to keep safe, how much are they willing to compromise for love?

Painted Love ~ Crescent Creek 2

Thou shalt not steal.

Oh, but Florence had, and would do so one last time. Ten pieces her grandfather painted for her because he loved her. Ten pieces her mother lost, along with anything else, for loving the wrong man. She couldn’t get back everything he’d wasted away, but she’d be damned if she’d give up those paintings.

Easy and genuine, Rhett loves his life–his family, his market, his town. Until he meets a British woman with grey eyes and a cute little smile. The woman he’s been waiting for. The thing is, to love her is easy, but can he trust her?

When Rhett pushes to uncover her agenda, Flo knows she will lose something–the man she loves or what she’d been fighting for years. Which road will she choose?

His Midnight Sun ~ Crescent Creek 3

Tormented, fierce, and broken, sculptor Aidan Murphy has judged himself guilty. He yearns for love but pushes everyone away. He longs for acceptance but has lost the key to open his heart. Until he meets Summer Williams. Beautiful and smart, Dr. Williams promises haven for a man who believes he deserves none. All he has to do is let her in and risk his heart and soul.

Summer’s managed to keep her inner light alive, even through tragedy. She’s created a new life for herself and her daughter in Crescent Creek with loving, caring and fun friends–well, except brooding, breathtaking Aidan. She’s used to keeping away from his type, though. All she has to do is ignore the pull of a man who’s turning up to be much more than snarls and storms. Will her compassion and medical instincts let her?
Love can heal a broken soul and shake up a timid heart. Or it can unleash devastation and revenge.

Will Aidan and Summer survive the hurricane?

Buy link: Amazon
Free with KU

THE AUTHOR

Beach bum and country music addicted, Viviana lives in a small Floridian town with her husband and her son, her die-hard fans and personal cheer squad. She spends her days between typing on her beloved keyboard, playing in the pool with her boy, and eating whatever her husband puts on her plate (the guy is that good, and she really loves eating). Besides beaching, she enjoys long walks, horse-riding, hiking, and pretty much whatever she can do outside with her family.

Find me:
On my website https://www.viviana-mackade.blog/
On Instagram
On FB
On Twitter
Amazon Author page

When You Close Your Eyes

Genre: Erotic Romance, Contemporary Romance,
Fantasy Romance

Publisher: The Wild Rose Press, Inc.
Audio Narrated by: Geoffrey Boyes
Date of Publication: January 28, 2019

ISBN-10: 1509223606
ISBN-13: 978-1509223602
ASIN: B07L162YB5

Number of pages: 422
Word Count: 114,000
Cover Artist: Diana Carlisle

He’s stepping out of her hot fantasies and into her life.

Dreams are the perfect shelter for fantasies, safe havens to step inside without changing our daily lives. For Lark Braithwaite, all that is about to change. During the last six months, Lark has dreamt of a mysterious Irish lover who knows what she wants and gives her exactly what she needs. In her waking life in busy London, things aren’t as ideal as her long-term relationship with her controlling fiancé Charles has hit a dry spell.

When Lark is called home to Oregon for her father’s funeral, she comes face to face with the demons from her past, but she never expects to meet her dream lover in the flesh. Niall O’Hagan steps straight out of her fantasies and into her life, and the powerful connection they share rocks her foundation. Although she’s dealing with the bitterness of her fiancé’s betrayal and his jealousy, Niall soon stirs Lark’s awareness of her superficial existence and reawakens her sexuality….and her soul.

ebook Copies Available at The Following Retailers:
Amazon | iTunes | BN | Bookstrand | Google Play |Kobo

Add to Your Reading List at:
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Book Trailer: https://youtu.be/4Sxz-_cvilk

Excerpt:

Her fantasy lover is real…

“Why are you wearing a suit and tie this time?” She squinted against the sunlight. Please, God, let this be a dream. He moved his head and put her in shade.

“This time?” He lifted an eyebrow, perplexed. “You’ll have to forgive me, lass, but I’ve no idea what the devil you’re talking about.” He maneuvered himself off her and sat upright at the end of the swing.

She tucked her feet against her, sat up, and blinked at him in utter disbelief.

“I came to knock on the door when I saw you on the swing. You tossed and turned, and with the way you grunted, I assumed you were in the middle of some sort of a seizure.”

He turned his head and licked his lips, full and abused by her kisses. A mushroom cloud of mortification bloomed inside her, steadily bigger by the minute.

“Erm, you…begged me to kiss you, and then you yanked me down. One thing led to another and, well, that was pretty much the way of it. I am only human, though I know it’s no excuse.” He swallowed and stared at her, his Adam’s apple moving in his throat. “I apologize. I shouldn’t have gone down when you pulled me, but it was strange—like you knew me or something.”

Lark leaned forward and rubbed her eyes. This couldn’t be real. He had to be a hallucination. When she opened her eyes, she’d see a man in his fifties with a receding hairline, glasses, and a beer gut. She reopened her eyes, and there he was: The full package.

About the Author

Roxanne D. Howard is a U.S. Army veteran who has a bachelor’s degree in Psychology and English. She loves to read poetry, classical literature, and Stephen King. Also, she is an avid Star Wars fan, musical theater nut, and marine biology geek. Roxanne resides in the western U.S., and when she’s not writing, she enjoys spending time with her husband and children. Roxanne loves to hear from her readers, and encourages you to contact her via her website and social media.

Website: www.roxannedhoward.com
Newsletter: https://roxannedhoward.com/subscribe/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/RoxanneDHoward
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/RoxanneDHowardAuthor/
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Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/15019190.Roxanne_D_Howard

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