UPDATE: The winner is…Alison Rush!
*~*~*

I’m trying out another game for you to play. It’s super easy to play. Just click on a block, and then match a picture or description from another block! All pics are of animals. So enjoy!

For a chance to win a $5 Amazon gift card, play the memory search and let me know what you think of the game! How does this memory search compare to the word search and crossword puzzles I posted in the past couple of weeks?

UPDATE: The winners are…Deb and Laura!
*~*~*

Come on, baby. Break a few rules…

When a Texas deputy’s motorcycle club trashes a bar with him leading the brawl, the sheriff decides his punishment will be serving as the bouncer/enforcer for the pretty owner while she runs a booth serving bikers during a weekend-long motorcycle club convention.

For a chance to win your choice of one of these Cowboys
on the Edge stories, answer me this!

Texas, Wyoming, Montana? Or do you love cowboy stories set somewhere else?

    

(Click on a cover if you’d like to learn more!)

Don’t know what you’re missing in this cowboy series? Read an excerpt…

Snippet from Lawless…

Ty Nolan ignored the nudge against his shin. Last thing he wanted to do was open his eyes. From the already harsh glare burning behind his eyelids, he knew opening them would be damn painful.

“Ty, come on. Wake up,” came a harsh whisper. “Sheriff’s here.”

Sheriff? What the hell? And what was Tank doing in his bedroom? Another moment passed before he realized his mattress was damn flat. Where the hell was he?

“Ty,” came another voice, this one louder and with an irritated edge. “Hate to interrupt your beauty sleep, but I’d like a word.”

Fuck, it really was the sheriff. Which answered the question of why his bed was so damn uncomfortable. He peeked in the direction of Sheriff Josh Penske’s voice—bars stood between them. Oh hell, I’m going to hear about it now.

With his head pounding, he accepted Tank’s hand up.

His buddy grinned. “Never knew you were such a lightweight, bro.”

Ty grimaced at Tank’s wisecrack—and his crushing grip. Tank was built like a…well, a tank. Ty had played football for the defensive team in high school, so he wasn’t exactly puny. It took a few seconds to stuff his shirt back into his jeans, wincing as his bruised knuckles brushed denim. Before he turned toward Josh, he raked a hand through his hair. Josh stood beside the open cell door, shaking his head.

Good Lord, was he about to lose his job? Be suspended?

Josh turned and led the way down the corridor to the station’s bullpen door. Ty was glad he was still too hung over to blush as he completed the walk of shame past his fellow deputies, whose mouths were crimped, no doubt to hold back their laughter. Josh led him inside his office then waved him toward the vacant chair in front of his desk.

Ty slumped into the chair. He was going to be fired, he just knew it.

Josh sat back in his chair and turned his chair to the side, his gaze going to the window. “You know, I thought it was a simple assignment.”

“To be fair, I had the night off—”

Josh held up a hand to cut him off. “No matter whether you’re in uniform or not, your duty is to keep the peace, not start the dang fight.”

At this point, Ty knew better than to try to correct Josh’s impression of what had happened the evening before. He’d only piss him off worse than he already had.

“I don’t know what to do with you…”

Ty wished he’d framed that statement as a question, because he would’ve offered suggestions—short of firing him, of course. He liked his job.

And he needed it. He needed to succeed if he ever wanted to put in his application to join the Texas Rangers. He sat straighter in his chair. He’d take his lumps and move on. Figure out what was next in his life. Life after the Army wasn’t turning out to be the cakewalk he’d expected.

“Can you imagine my surprise when the mayor called to inform me that she’d seen you hauled off in handcuffs, along with a dozen other ‘miscreants’—her word?”

The mayor hadn’t been so keen on this weekend’s festivities. He’d had a bird’s-eye view of just how unhappy she was when she’d marched into the station the morning before and asked Josh to lock the fairground gates.

Apparently, she’d changed her mind about allowing bikers to gather there. “Yes, I know I approved the club’s permit, but have you seen how many bikes are parked all up and down Main Street? Caldera will not be another Waco!” she’d said, tapping her foot.

Ty had grimaced at the mention of the infamous shootout between members of two rival motorcycle clubs, that had spilled out into a restaurant parking lot where cops had violently ended that shit. Ty’s Veterans Posse Club wasn’t like that. Not involved with drugs or criminal activities. Opposed to violence, they did however get pissy about disrespect from any other club. Composed entirely of former vets, the club gave its members a safe place to be, with people who had shared similar experiences that most folks couldn’t empathize with or even conceive of.

What had happened last night at Ruby’s Roadhouse had been…his fault. One too many beers and a sneering, snide comment from another club’s snarky member, who shouldn’t have been there in the first place, and he’d waded right into a fight.

“Look, I got the down-low from Ruby at the bar,” Josh said. “She said that guy from the club was being a dick to one of the waitresses, and that when you approached him, he insulted your club…”

Ty opened his mouth, but Josh gave a curt shake of his head, again cutting him off.

“Ruby Tackett’s bar got trashed. I asked her what she wanted to have happen.”

Here goes… Ruby was a hardass. She’d turned off the jukebox to read the riot act to all the bikers who’d filled her bar last night—before shit had gone down. “No fights,” she’d said, her arms crossed over her ample bosom. “No hassling my girls. When I say you’re cut off, you’re cut off. No fights! Got it?”

He and his buddies had all grinned and nodded. “Yes, ma’am,” they’d answered.

And still, all hell had broken loose.

“She expects your club to clean up the mess.”

Ty nodded. “Of course.”

“She’s closing the bar for the duration of the convention. But she already has a booth set up at the fairgrounds where she’ll be serving beer in the campground area—to keep the visitors off the road and out of her place. She wants you behind the bar with her.”

UPDATE: The winner is…Colleen C!
*~*~*

“Don’t bet on it.”

“Ace in the hole.”

 “Put your money where your mouth is.”

I’m not a gambler. Not at all. In fact, my adult daughter took me to a casino for the first time only a few weeks ago. And while I had a fun afternoon with her, I don’t feel the need to do it again unless it’s simply to spend more time with her. I was not drawn into the flashing lights and promises of big payouts. I had more fun watching the other people. Yep, not a gambler.

But when I was working on my last book, NOT BETTING ON FOREVER, which releases today, Aug 8^th, I researched betting lingo so I could add a few phrases here and there. The main characters, Melanie and Nick, grew up next door to each other in very competitive families, so when they both end up back in town, single and next door to each other again, what can they do but fall into old habits? They don’t go to a casino but find themselves competitors in the local Battle of the Businesses.

I was surprised how many common terms and phrases come from betting lingo. I mean, I guess most of them are pretty obvious when you get right down to it. But when a non-competitive, non-gambler like me uses some of these phrases in non-betting conversations…well, as someone who loves words, it made me curious about which phrases I’ve been using without having a clue where they originated. Just a few examples…

“Holding your own.” I always thought that meant you could handle yourself in a certain situation, but in betting lingo, it means breaking even — like what I did after 5 hours in the casino with my daughter.

“Sure thing.” Now to me, it’s another way to say “yes.” “Hey, can you pick up the pizza on your way home?” “Sure thing.” But in betting lingo it means…yeah, pretty obvious…something that has 100% chance of winning. Kinda the opposite of a “Long shot.”

“Down to the wire.” That’s a phrase that now means up to the very last moment, like when I’m working right up until my deadline to finish a project. Luckily, that doesn’t happen very often! But in betting terms, it comes from a time when a wire was stretched across the finish line in horse races as a way to tell which horse won when the competition was very close. Sounds kind of dangerous to me.

You might wonder which terms my characters used in NOT BETTING ON FOREVER? Just a few examples…

“What do you want to bet?” That was only a few pages into the book. They can’t help it!

“Penny ante.” It used to be a small-stakes poker game. The definition now means any dealings on a small scale. Nick and Melanie’s parents usually play for pennies, big jars of them.

 “Luck of the draw.” Melanie’s team is put up against a tough competitor in one of the battles, I’m not going to tell you who won.

“You’ve got a bet.” Nick and Melanie made a side bet. Um…more than one, actually.

The examples I’ve given are just the tip of the iceberg. So, what about you? Any favorite betting phrases? Do you like to hit the casinos? Do you weigh the odds? Play your cards right? Or are the cards stacked against you? Let me know in the comments below and one lucky commenter will get a free digital copy of NOT BETTING ON FOREVER.

Not Betting on Forever

What’s the fun when you don’t bet to win?

Single mom Melanie Hayes should absolutely, completely, and totally not be attracted to her next door neighbor. Nick Campagna can be her friend, her secret crush, or just the arrogant —and unavoidably handsome—jerk next door, but nothing more.  Because, even though it was a million years ago, he’s also her sister’s ex. And now, with Lakeside’s Battle of the Businesses in full swing, Nick’s also Melanie’s competition.

Their families have always been competitive, so it’s no surprise to anyone that Nick and Melanie are playing for more than just bragging rights. With a coveted piece of land on the line, Nick isn’t backing down. Maybe he can’t help noticing that the tomboy he knew as a kid has turned into a stunning redhead. Maybe he is attracted to Melanie. Ridiculously so. But as real as this feels, Nick knows this is one game he definitely can’t win.

They’ve known each other long enough that it’s definitely not love at first sight. But attraction can happen in an instant. And this is one wager where winning is nowhere near as fun as playing the game…

BRAND NEW RELEASE! Get your copy here: Not Betting on Forever

Oh, and the title phrase – “Winner, winner, chicken dinner?” It’s said that it originated from gamblers who would bet anything to win enough money to buy themselves a chicken dinner.

Don’t forget to leave a comment!

Natasha

UPDATE: The winner is…Janelle Beaver!
*~*~*

©Diana Cosby 2022

Summer is a wonderful time to enjoy nature’s beauty.  Recently, I was fortunate to see this beautiful doe.

The long days of sunlight nurture numerous flowers that draw bees, butterflies, skippers, and more.

Early in the morning chipmunks move through the grass, around rocks, or through the woods foraging for food.

Ravens are beautiful, plus really smart, and I often see them during the summer months.

I love turtles and I look forward to seeing them in the woods, at the pond, or along the shore before the cooler weather of fall arrives and they hibernate.

The warm days of summer give way to numerous varieties of butterflies who slowly flutter their way across fields, streams, in search of the next flower.  Take care, and I hope you enjoy the rest of the summer!

Contest

***ONE winner will be drawn from everyone who posts on my guest blog post about, ‘Nature’s Beauty – Summer Along the Shore!’ on Delilah’s blog between 7 August 2022 – 14 August 2022, and will win a signed copy of His Woman.”

About Diana Cosby

A retired Navy Chief, Diana Cosby is an international bestselling author of Scottish medieval romantic suspense. Books in her award-winning MacGruder Brothers series have been translated into five languages. Diana has spoken at the Library of Congress, Lady Jane’s Salon in NYC, and appeared in Woman’s Day, on USA Today’s romance blog, “Happy Ever After,” MSN.com, Atlantic County Women Magazine, and Texoma Living Magazine.

After her career in the Navy, Diana dove into her passion – writing romance novels. With 34 moves behind her, she was anxious to create characters who reflected the amazing cultures and people she’s met throughout the world. After the release of the bestselling MacGruder Brothers series and The Oath Trilogy, she released the bestselling The Forbidden Series.

Diana looks forward to the years of writing ahead and meeting the amazing people who will share this journey.

God bless,

Diana Cosby, International Best-Selling Author
www.dianacosby.com
The Oath Trilogy
MacGruder Brother Series
The Forbidden Series

Social Media
Website:  https://www.dianacosby.com/
Goodreads:  https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/978803.Diana_Cosby
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Diana-Cosby/e/B003YJ1MR4/ref=sr_ntt_srch_lnk_1?qid=1417447922&sr=8-1
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/Diana-Cosby-Romance-Author-150109024636/?ref=ts

UPDATE: The winner is…Eileen Airey!
*~*~*

Enjoy the puzzle! And be sure to enter the other open contests! ~ DD

Puzzle-Contest

For a chance to win a $5 Amazon gift card, solve the puzzle and tell me what happened next. Have fun with this!

Open Contests

1. Saturday Puzzle-Contest! — Win an Amazon gift card!
2. July into August (Contest) — Win an Amazon gift card!
3. Is it too early? (Contest) — Win a FREE book!
4. A New Puzzle! (Contest) — Win an Amazon gift card!
5. “Will you. Won’t you. Will you. Won’t you…” (Contest) — Win a FREE book!

It’s Friday, and maybe you’re getting ready to download a story and meet your new Weekend Book-Boyfriend. Well, I have a suggestion for you. Russell “Animal” Hathcoat is a bounty hunter, who will fall like a ton of bricks when he meets the right woman. He’s growly, grumpy, and rough around the edges but has a tender heart. Everything you could want in a BBF.

I reduced the price for this weekend only!! You’ll save $3 if you pick up your copy now! Read the excerpt below for a peek inside the fun you’ll have!

Happy Reading!
~DD

Animal

MONTANA BOUNTY HUNTERS: Authentic Men… Real Adventures…

A rough-around-the-edges bounty hunter takes a nature photographer on a wild ride.

Former SEAL, Russell “Animal” Hathcoat, retreated to a remote mountain cabin after leaving the Navy. Haunted by horrific images that replay in his nightmares of his last mission with his SEAL brothers, he intends to renovate the dilapidated cabin as penance and therapy, and to avoid rejoining the world around him. But then, someone who understands what he needs better than he does arrives to offer him a job.

Allie Travers loves the freedom and solitude of being a nature photographer and journalist—until the day she stares through her lens at a charging black bear. With her heart in her throat, she can only stand watching in horror, knowing she’ll never escape in time. But rescue comes in the form of a wild man who risks his life to frighten away the animal.

Once the danger is past, she’s told by his team of bounty hunters that she has more to fear than any animal in the woods. A felon is on the loose, and she has to accompany them to safety. Seeing an opportunity, Allie shadows the team as they hunt their prey deep in a national forest. Much to Animal’s chagrin, more than just his protective instincts are aroused by the pretty photojournalist.

Get your copy here: Kindle | Nook | Kobo | Apple Books | Google Play

Excerpt from Animal…

Animal tuned out the crackling, thudding sounds of his team members moving through the forest.

On day three after he’d joined the hunt, he wasn’t regretting his decision to give MBH a try. He’d been unwilling to make any long-term promises. Hadn’t signed a contract or filled out a W-9. Not yet, anyway. When Fetch had described what Tibbets had done, and then talked about the hunters who were already on his trail, Animal had felt a stirring of interest. Manhunts were something he was familiar with. So, he wasn’t hunting a high-dollar target through the Hindu Kush mountains. Wasn’t dropping into some walled compound to sweep a house in the dead of night.

Still, this felt familiar. Moving through the bushes. Tracking a target. Looking for campfires, footprints, signs Tibbets had stopped to piss or shit. That morning, they’d found a butchered deer. Most of the carcass had been picked apart by scavengers. So, it hadn’t been left by a game hunter. He’d taken a portion of a haunch, had roasted it over a quickly built fire, and had eaten as much as he could before moving on.

Looked like Tibbets was feeling pretty sure he’d slipped the noose. He hadn’t even bothered to try to bury the evidence he’d been there.

The first afternoon, Animal had ridden along with Carly and Reaper. They’d shown him the warrant and pictures of Tibbets and his family. They’d canvassed businesses in Olney—gun shops, grocers, gas stations, but no one recalled seeing him or his cousin Murray.

That evening, they headed to Tibbets’s favorite haunt again. The women sat at the long polished bar, chatting up the bartender and the waitresses. Dagger and Mace played pool with two plugged-in and gossipy locals. Reaper and Animal sat at a table, watching the doors. But none of them were getting any bites.

About an hour into their surveillance, Hook and Cochise arrived.

Hook slapped a map on the table. “Found the parcel his family owns. It sits on a creek.”

“’Bout damn time,” Reaper had muttered.

The next morning, they’d geared up and surrounded a small, ratty camper trailer. Tibbets had been there recently but was now gone. After tearing through his belongings, searching for clues where he might have gone next, they bagged up dirty clothes for Mace’s dog Taco to scent on.

The moment Taco lowered his nose to the ground, following Tibbets’s trail from the camper’s metal steps, they’d realized the man had headed straight into the woods, afoot, rather than driving out.

They’d left Dagger, Lacey, and Cochise behind to watch for any movement in town, and to keep an eye out for any of his relatives who looked ready to head north with supplies to help him out. The rest of the team members grabbed their gear from their vehicles and began tracking Tibbets into Flathead National Forest.

Animal didn’t mind the rough conditions. He was accustomed to long marches and sleeping on the ground. None of the hunters, even Carly Stenberg, complained about the conditions, even after they’d endured a chilly rain the previous day. They’d dried their clothes beside a fire last night, reasonably assured they were still a day’s hike from catching up to Tibbets. Conversation had flowed around him, but he hadn’t felt the need to try to contribute.

This was a tight, well-trained crew, and they knew each other well. But they seemed to understand he wasn’t the chatty type. He rather liked the fact they let him be.

They came to the edge of the woods. A large meadow stretched before them, mountains in the background. The meadow was broken on one side by ridges of exposed rock.

“We got company,” Reaper said quietly. They all held back, remaining hidden in the brush. Reaper lifted an arm and pointed.

Animal pulled out his tactical telescope and followed Reaper’s direction, at last spotting a slender figure standing beside an outcropping. Not their mark.

A woman. She stood in front of a tripod and peered into a camera. She had wheat-colored hair drawn back into a messy braid. She wore a red plaid shirt and a khaki vest over blue jeans and boots.

Suddenly, she jerked back her head, giving him a glimpse of her profile. Her eyebrows were lowered, her mouth dropping as she stared down the hill.

He turned his telescope toward whatever had caught her attention and immediately understood her concern.

A baby black bear ambled into the clearing, heading upward toward her location.

“Where’s mama?” he whispered.

As though answering his question, a loud bellow sounded from the forest farther down the tree line. A large bear ran out, huffing and bellowing, heading toward the woman.

He didn’t have even a millisecond to think through a better plan. Animal dumped his pack and ran into the clearing, tearing at his shirt. When he’d ripped off the buttons down the front, he flapped the edges, trying to make himself look bigger. “Ha! Ha!” he yelled as loud as he could to draw the bear’s attention away from the woman.

Mama bear bounced on her front paws and spun toward him.

“Don’t shoot unless you have to!” Animal tossed over his shoulder to Reaper.

“Don’t get in my line of fire!” Reaper shouted back.

“Don’t shoot her!” the woman screamed.

“You shut up!” Animal yelled, still running, still flapping. Didn’t she realize he was trying to draw the bear’s attention away from her?

The bear’s head moved from Animal, to Reaper behind him, and again to the woman, likely trying to decide who was the biggest danger to her cub.

Animal roared and flapped and moved a little closer.

The baby bear squalled and changed direction, running for his mama.

Just when Animal feared the bear would charge, she spun and ran into the woods, her cub running right behind her.

Animal halted, breathing hard. He gave another flap of his shirt. “Ha! Ha!” he shouted, hoping she’d been startled bad enough not to turn around.

Then he heard a whirring sound, coming from up the rise. He turned his head toward the woman. The sound came from her camera. Animal gave her a fierce glare then began to stalk up the rise.

When he reached her, she straightened and flashed him a wide smile. “Thanks for that. Thought for a second there I was going to be lunch.”

“What the hell!” he bellowed, anger shot through him. Didn’t she have a clue how close to being “lunch” he’d been, trying to rescue her? And all she’d thought about was taking her damn pictures?

Her eyebrows shot upward, and she stood still.

Behind him, he heard more of his team stomping up the hill. He should have turned and walked away. Should have let Reaper handle getting her packed up and off the mountain. Away from him.

Instead, anger vibrated through him. He glanced at the gear strewn around her feet. “Who the hell comes out to the wilderness without a goddamn gun?”

“The only shots I plan to take are with my camera,” she said icily, lifting her chin.

He ground his teeth as his face heated.

“Wish I’d been shooting video though,” she said. “The footage would’ve gone viral. Do you chase bears often?”

UPDATE: The winner is…Janie McGaugh!
*~*~*

“Will you. Won’t you. Will you. Won’t you. Will you join the dance?”
~Lewis Carroll

I think about this quote when the 8-year-old and I are in the pool. She loves to use the time to be “creative.” She sings Disney and BTS songs while acting them out. She does what she calls “splash dance,” which is her splashing water with her hands while she sings. Sometimes, she makes me guess the song while she splashes in a rhythm, and of course, I can’t guess, so I give her the most ridiculous answers I can. I love to watch her eyes roll. When she joins her hands with mine and tries to dance or do some synchronized swimming routine that she has in her head, I get twisted up like a pretzel. It’s magic, of course.

No, we don’t look like this, but her expressions are just as fierce! LOL

I will hate the summer she decides playing with Nina is no longer fun. Heck, I was crushed when the three older kids got to the point where they weren’t dying to hit the pool every day. When she “outgrows” me, I’ll be the only “kid” out there, trying to come up with my own synchronized swimming routine. More like, I’ll add some water-aerobic exercises to my daily dozen. sigh

So, tell me what keeps you young at heart? Do you play with the kids/grandkids? Do you swim like an eel in the lake or pool? Do you swing on a hammock or practice aeromancy (cloud divination) or stare at the stars at night and imagine all the billions of strange worlds out there and what it would be like to visit them?

Comment below for a chance to win your choice of download from among my backlist of books!