This lush and lovely novella is coming your way Tuesday! I can’t wait to hear what you think! I love everything about it.

I love the cover. I chose the images, but my dear sister, Elle James, put it together! I had the cover before I wrote the book, so the story was greatly influenced by how that cover made me feel.

And I had that title before I knew anything about the story. Which made it fun trying to figure out how it would come into play in the story. Not that I consciously figured anything out at all. The story just kind of “happened.”

This time, the person suffering the PTSD and survivior’s guilt is the heroine. We love our tortured hero’s, but this time, you get to see what the heroine’s pain does to our lovely, sexy SEAL. And yes, Marvin Gaye’s Sexual Healing is playing in my brain… Sam really does rise to the occasion… Okay, so that was a little crass, but how can I describe my hero? Patient, except in bed. Gentle, except in bed. Rough and rugged…in bed, too actually. In love at first sight? Yeah, but he doesn’t know it right away…

This is the fourth story in the series. I hope you’re already hooked and ready for more. So have you pre-ordered your copy?

Enjoy the excerpt!

Comment below for a chance to win one of the prequel books to Dream of Me.

After losing her partner and lover in a shootout, New Orleans police officer Aislin Dupree is tormented by memories of the past and the day she lost Marc LeBrun. At her darkest hour, she discovers that Marc had planned a romantic getaway on a Caribbean island before his death. All expenses paid. She decides to take the trip, hoping the island getaway will help her come to terms with her sorrow. Instead, she meets a man, a friend of Marc’s from his past when he served as a Navy SEAL.

Sam Blalock is like Marc in so many ways that he makes her ache for what she once had. Strong, rugged Sam is her rock, holding her when she breaks, encouraging her to move on, because he knows about the pain of loss and the horror of violence all too well. She soon finds her waking hours consumed by Sam while she roams her dreams in search of Marc. As the time approaches for her to go home, she’s afraid to let go of the connection she’s found, and she fears she might be holding onto Sam for all the wrong reasons while she imagines another reality where dreams do come true.

Pre-Order Now!

Dread weighed her down, making her feel sluggish and stupid. I have to find the right door. She stumbled into a long corridor, wood paneling below wainscoting, and tattered, dark teal wallpaper with faded pink roses above. Like she’d seen in her grandmother’s house when she was a child. Only this corridor was endless and lined with teakwood doors—all identical, all closed.

How could she possibly find the right one? The panic in her body made her want to run and try them all, but she knew she didn’t have much time—a lesson she’d already learned. And turning the wrong knob led to horrors best left unknown.

She wanted to run but couldn’t, because her feet were as heavy as lead, mired in invisible muck, slowing her steps, making her tired. Her stride shortened. She dragged her feet on the floral carpet, staticky sounds following her, sparks biting her naked ankles. At last, she came to a halt, her body swaying. Too tired to care what she might find, she opened the door…

Aislin Dupree tugged at the collar of her dark uniform. She’d have a rash—a rosy red ring around her neck—because she’d sweated so much the collar was stiff.

“Stop messin’ with it, Ash,” her partner drawled from the driver’s seat. “You’ll only make it worse.”

“This stickiness is making me crazy. Heat’s so bad I wonder why I bother taking a shower before shift. I’m drenched again before I’m dressed. And why aren’t you sweating?”

She watched as Marc LeBrun’s smile in profile stretched in that lazy way that never failed to make her tingle from head to toe and exciting all the sexy parts in between.

He made a turn before glancing her way, flashing a smile. “I don’t fidget. Chillax, baby. It’s just another mornin’ in easy town. Good times…”

Good times… His sly code for sex whenever they were in company. “Stop,” she said, holding up her hand. “That’s not helping.”

He chuckled, but kept his gaze on the road ahead. “You think about Grand Isle?”

“Fishing on Grand Isle is not my definition of a sexy getaway.”

“Won’t be no fishin’, sugar. Just you ’n’ me. Bed and breakfast on the beach.”

“The sight of oil rigs kinda spoils the view,” she grumbled, but only half-heartedly. The thought of getting away from the city, which smelled foul this time of year, due to the rain and humidity and the sewage floating just beneath the street grates, did sound good. “Should just head to Thibodeaux. Nice hotels there. Might find one with room service. We can take an airboat ride into the swamps if we get bored…” she said, giving him a teasing, sideways glance.

“And that’s sexier than a B&B on the beach?” His chuckles grew and grew.

And she grinned, happy she was there beside him. Just another day on their beat. Most cops rode single, but this part of town was more dangerous. Extra manpower had been added to the shifts in this ward. They’d been paired now for six months. Lovers for the last three.

However they spent their time together didn’t really matter. It was always…good times.

Dispatch broke the silence with the code for robbery. “Be advised, female at location says pedestrian forced her to empty her register.”

The location was only five blocks away. Marc gave her a short nod and flipped on the lights.

Ash pressed the button on the mic. “51-12 responding. Five minutes to location.”

“51-12. 10-4. All units in the vicinity be on the lookout for a male, medium height, wearin’ a gray hoodie…”

The next few minutes passed in a blur. They arrived at the shop with its barred windows and shabby, white-washed exterior.

Marc entered first with his weapon drawn. “This is NOPD,” he called out.

No response came from inside.

Ash edged closer to his body, turning to watch their six. The hair on the back of her neck rose. She knew Marc felt it too because, for once, he was quiet and moving slowly.

The shop was small, just a twenty by twenty square filled with rows of racks stocked with snack foods and drinks. Glancing over the top of the racks, Ash spotted a door toward the back, partially open. Dark.

Both officers crouched down behind the racks as they made their way steadily toward the darkened doorway.

Marc pointed down an aisle, indicating she should come at the door from another angle.

Keeping her breathing even, she nodded and sped silently to the end of the row.

Another nod, and she moved with her back to the wall, easing toward the doorway. From this angle, she could see the bottom of a dirty sneaker, unmoving on the floor.

She lifted her finger and pointed to the door, indicating she saw one person. When they stood flanking the door, she reached out an arm to open it wider, a loud creak sounding in the silence. It thudded softly against the wall of the small office.

Marc edged around the corner, stepped over the young woman on the floor and went to the door at the far side of the room, which stood wide open, sunlight streaming inside from the alley.

Ash bent over the young woman and placed a hand on her chest, felt movement, and then pressed her mic to call for an ambulance. But behind her, she heard another creak and stiffened.

Marc swung around, his weapon raised. “Get down!” he shouted.

Ash ducked toward the woman, not wanting to get in Marc’s line of fire. Above her, a loud blast boomed—a shotgun round. Her body stiffened, and she glanced toward Mark. Blood burst from multiple places on his face and neck, spraying outward. His arms flung wide.

She screamed and came up, swinging back with her elbow and connected with hard muscle. No time to think. No time to pray. Marc had to be okay. She had to get to him. But first, she had to live.

As she turned, something struck her cheek. She went down, watching as though in slow motion as a man in a hoodie raised a gun and pointed it at her. Her own weapon entered her line of sight. A loud explosion sounded, the recoil jolting her arm. He jerked, his arms going limp, dropping the shotgun, and then he lurched past her, stepping on Marc as he exited through the door.

She got back to her knees and crawled toward Marc who lay so still, too quiet. His face was a mess, blood dripping down both sides into his thick black hair, pockets of flesh gone. What worried her most was the sluggish pulsing river flowing from his neck wound. She pressed her hands over it and leaned toward him. “Marc, hang on, baby. I’m here. I’m here.”

He didn’t blink. Didn’t move.

She pressed harder with one hand and lifted the other to her radio. “108. Officer down. Officer down. Shots fired.” She knew her voice sounded ragged, strained. They’d know the situation was bad. Please come fast.

She fought to control her panic. Do her job. Again, she pressed the button to let them know the suspect was fleeing the scene. “Six-feet-four male, gray hoodie, jeans, sunglasses. On foot.” She released the button and let the mic hang from her shoulder as she bent over Marc, all her concentration going now to her partner who was dying. She knew he was. Her chest pinched, and she could barely breathe. No miracle would save him.

When Delilah invited me to post on her blog, my first reaction was a fangirl squeal.

My second reaction was a Carlton dance.  And my third reaction was a complete, paralyzing writer’s block, which continued until last night.  How the hell do I choose what to write on Delilah’s blog? This is Delilah! Everyone has been in bed with her, and I’m just popping my publishing cherry!! Oh, the stress.

But I have a generally-calm, down-to-earth, hold-your-hand-through-hell hubby who said, “That’s what you write about.  Popping your cherry.” And he was right. With my first book only eleven days away, I haven’t taken a full moment to pause and articulate what I learned in this amazing process.  It started out as a small story on Fanfiction, then it grew on my blog, and now, finally, it’s hitting the stands.  It has been a beautiful whirlwind, filled with lessons.  And because I’m a list person (blame my legal job), here are the top five:

1. Write with my heart, then edit with my head. Oh, the blood and tears of that first draft. How precious each adjective, how darling each adverb! I had to step away in the end (okay, was dragged away by my hubby, but tomayto- tomahto).  I went out, saw my friends, combed my hair. And I learned that, for me, some distance was crucial. I needed it to be able to return to the manuscript with a gimlet eye. To delete huge chunks of it, and rewrite entire chapters.  To realize that adverbs are almost never needed if I use the right verb.  And that the best story is not the one I tell, but the one I show.

2. Pick my battles. So I could delete adjectives and adverbs on my own. But what would I do if my agent wanted me to strike an entire background story or remove a whole character? I learned to compromise. Not everything I thought was vital was actually interesting.  And not everything that was interesting was actually vital.  So that’s when I came up with my formula:  if it takes me more than three sentences to explain the importance of a background story or secondary character, that information is not vital.  Delete it.

3. Trust my gut. But there were some things that took more than three sentences to explain. Some things that were integral to my main characters, even if all my legal training couldn’t persuade my agent to see my point. For example, my alpha hero, Aiden, is a U.S. Marine with total recall. He can never forget anything. Especially not the horrors of war. My agent wanted to delete his memory. We talked, we argued, we tried hard—with zero progress. My head told me to listen to the agent—she was a pro; I was a newbie.  My heart wanted to listen to her, too—she was the first one who saw my potential.  But my gut kept saying “no”—loud and clear (and in Aiden’s deep, husky voice, which made it irresistible). In the end, I had to make the hardest decision of my writing journey: I had to part ways with my first agent. It would take up all of Delilah’s blog to explain how difficult that was. What the hell was I doing? I was lucky to have an agent at all! But my gut was absolutely right. Because, shortly after, I found another agent who loved the book the way it was, and an editor, and a publisher who followed.  And, above all, the 63,000 readers that visited my story online.  In the end, instincts matter.  (And that’s a big lesson for a newbie author.)

4. Listen to my readers. Looking back now though, I wonder: would I have had enough confidence as a baby author to follow my instincts without all the readers who followed my story online? See, I posted Thirty Nights on Fanfiction first—before it caught the attention of an agent. I thought I’d be lucky if I had one, maybe two readers. I ended up finding quite a few more.  And every single one of their 3,000 messages, reviews, and emails did its little magic. It allowed me to understand what they liked, what they didn’t. And to appreciate that although I write for myself, what I write is theirs.

5. Be prepared to gain about seven to ten pounds. This was a surprise to me. My Debut Author 15! All those nervous chocolate nibbles and take-out food around deadlines have left me with some pounds to shed. But that’s okay—it was worth it.  Because the final lesson in this whole process has been to give my body and brain what they crave every so often.  This writing business is not a sprint, it’s a marathon.  (And with that, I’m getting on my trek suit, and going for a run.)

Thank you for reading and please check out information on Thirty Nights below. And thank you, Delilah, for inviting me on your blog!

Thirty nights. Two hearts. One fate.

After her parents’ tragic deaths, Elisa Snow wanted nothing more than to escape her past. Eighteen and alone, she fled her quaint English village and moved to the United States. A starving science student by day and an artist’s muse by night, Elisa has slowly built a new life. She never dreamed she would lose everything again.

She is one week from graduation when her visa is unexpectedly denied. Given thirty days to leave the country, she must face the one thing she cannot survive again—saying goodbye and leaving her home. Yet within minutes of her world shattering, she meets a man with the power to piece it back together.

After finishing his tour of duty in Iraq, Aiden Hale traded battlefields for boardrooms, becoming one of the most successful venture capitalists in the nation. But all his wealth can’t buy him reprieve from the horrific memories of war. The only thing that gives him peace is a painting of Elisa.

Drawn together by their invisible wounds, they begin a passionate affair as they race against the clock to defy their pasts—and fight for their future.

Warning: Contains a blistering exploration of desire, sacrifice, and redemption…and love’s power to equalize us in ways laws cannot.

EXCERPT

The door rattles under four sharp, loud knocks. According to my dad’s watch,

I still have one hour before Hale gets here. I peek through the hole and freeze. Bloody hell, it’s the Dragon, with a capital D this time. What did I do today? Oh, maybe he is canceling the painting. I put a half-baked plan together and open the door.

“Mr. Hale, what a nice surprise,” I start with a big smile, my voice high enough for the bats to hear it.

He steps inside. I think he’s trying to calm himself but it’s hard to tell with the smoke coming out of his ears. He runs a hand over his hair. What the devil is wrong with him? He takes one deep breath and explodes.

“Are you so above the rest, Miss Snow, that you will not deign to attend even your graduation from the institution that has granted you its highest academic honor? Or is this how little your own life means to you?” He speaks through gritted teeth.

Oh, bollocks! How did he find out, and why does he care? Be strong, Isa. “I’m sorry, but that’s none of your business.” I ignore his second question. Something about it makes me recoil.

He looks at me like I just insulted his mother. Honestly, I think I see fire from his nostrils. “None of my fucking business? Is that your answer?” Still gritted teeth, which I suppose is better than fangs.

“Yes, that’s my answer.” I stay calm, hoping some of it will rub off on him. No such luck.

“Over three thousand people watched President Campbell announce Miss Elisa Cecilia Snow, valedictorian in absentia, and a full minute of silence fell over the crowd, and you say it’s none of my fucking business?” He is spitting fire.

Damn it! Why would President Campbell announce it? I emailed the traitor. Well, one thing at a time. The Dragon first. “No, I didn’t say fucking business. I said simply business.”

He looks at me with flared nostrils and roars, his fists hanging down.

“What is wrong with you?”

Oh, this is rich. He is morphing into a Tolkien creature and I’m the freak? I am usually a calm, rational agent. It’s probably not apparent based on this last week, but I am. But right now, with my newly shaved legs and my lacy knickers on, after practicing his name all day in front of a stupid fan, I want to scratch his eyes out.

“There’s nothing wrong with me, Mr. Hale. However, based on your behavior these last two days, may I suggest the very real possibility that there is something seriously wrong with you? I strongly recommend that you visit a psychiatrist, sir, and soon, before you become a menace on the streets of Portland and incinerate us all for exercising our right as free human beings to go wherever we bloody well please,” I hiss, feeling a kindred spirit with Medusa because he has turned to stone.

Before I can draw a breath, he takes the two steps between us and his mouth closes in on mine, his hands like a vise around my face.

The force of his kiss slams me against the wall and makes me gasp. His lips mold with mine, and his tongue is dancing inside my mouth. My knees shake a little. As if he knows, one of his hands leaves my face, trails down my body and rests at the small of my back, arching me against him and supporting all my weight. I move my tongue shyly around his. I taste cinnamon and something else, something Aiden. My blood ignites, and another gasp escapes me. At the sound, he presses his hips against me, and his long fingers reach into my hair. He pulls my head back until my mouth opens wider. Our tongues move together, and his anger changes to desperation and then to a slower rhythm that I can follow. Of their own accord, my arms reach up around his neck and my fingers knot in his hair. He tenses, so I try to let go but he draws me closer until there is no more space left. I feel every line of his body against mine. His teeth graze my bottom lip. It takes me a moment to realize that the moan I hear is coming from me. He pulls away, his breathing harsh and labored.

“Impossible woman,” he growls.

I open my eyes. His sapphire depths are blazing. Without his arm supporting me, my knees go back to shaky and weak. Then it dawns on me. Bloody hell, I’ve just been kissed by Aiden Hale! And what a kiss it was. I’ll be the first to admit I don’t have much experience with such things, but I am willing to bet my supplement’s formula that no girl, anywhere, has been kissed like this. I pinch myself discreetly to make sure I’m awake. Yes, it was real. My lips are tingling.

“Are you ready to go?” he asks, his breathing now back in control. Apparently, we are not going to talk about it. That’s good. What if his next words end this? And what is there to say regardless? By some miracle, he wants me at some level, and I want him at all levels. That’s good enough for now. Good enough for forever for someone like me.

*~*~*

GIVEAWAY

I love this giveaway.  It’s Tiffany’s Iconic Necklace in Silver and Tiffany Blue.  Check it out and enter the raffle. I want this beauty to end up around someone’s neck.

https://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/4cf78adb299/

PRE-ORDER LINKS

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B016NE32DI?keywords=thirty%20nights%20ani%20keating&qid=1444974890&ref_=sr_1_1&sr=8-1

Barnes & Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/thirty-nights-ani-keating/1122799616?ean=9781619231283#productInfoTabs

iTunes: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/thirty-nights/id1049521392?mt=11

Googleplay: https://play.google.com/store/books/details/Ani_Keating_Thirty_Nights?id=97S6CgAAQBAJ

Samhain: https://www.samhainpublishing.com/book/5639/thirty-nights

Kobo: https://store.kobobooks.com/en-us/ebook/thirty-nights-3#readThisOn

AUTHOR LINKS

Come find me in the links below. I’d love to “meet” you.

Website: https://anikeating.com
Twitter: @AniKeating
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/thirtynights/?ref=hl  and https://www.facebook.com/ani.surnois

UPDATE: The winner of the free download is…Regina!

* * * * *

I know. The title’s a little over the top, isn’t it? Sometimes, I just can’t help myself. Makes me grin. Fournicopia, Hotter with a Pole… I’m lucky my publisher puts up with me.

I hope you’re ready for some sexy good times. Swear there must be something in the water around Two Mule, Texas. But their women are the luckiest in the state! And their men really do consider it a duty to ensure a woman’s pleasure.

And if you do read my naughty little cowboy menage, consider leaving a review. Readers trust other readers to let them know a book is worth their time and money.

For a chance to win a download of one of the prequel books to Family Values, answer me this:

In an alternate universe where taking many lovers,
at the same time, isn’t a sin…would you? 

Excerpt from Family Values:

“I’m sorry, Angel. It’s all I can say. You have an education now. You’re grown. You can make your own choice.”

“But I can’t.”

He shot her a sideways glance. There were tears in her eyes. “Are you afraid of hurting one of us?”

Her chin trembled. “That, and…” Her gaze went to the wall, and she released a slow breath. “I love you. All three of you. So you see…”

He stopped breathing when he heard the I love you. The second sentence was disappointing, but better than a rejection. She didn’t know it yet, but they were going to make this easy for her.

Brand reached out for her hand and held it inside his. It was slender, soft and so small. He worried now about so many things. “Will you trust me? I know I haven’t given you much reason, but before I sent you away, we were friends, weren’t we?”

A tear rolled down one cheek, and she wiped it away with the back of her other hand. “You were always quiet, Brand, remote. A little too removed from me for us to be besties. But I did trust you. When I was scared, you were the one I ran to.”

“I was older. I had no business lustin’ after you.”

“Lusting?” Her plump mouth twitched again. “There’s only twelve years between us.”

He narrowed his eyes. “And back then, I could still see you in pigtails.”

“Do you see me as a child now?”

He tightened his jaw. “No,” he rasped.

“Brand…” She paused and bit her lip.

“Out with it. We’re bein’ honest here.”

“I was never sure you wanted me,” she whispered. “You never kissed me. Eli brought me flowers and kissed me in the barn. And you know what Nate and I did.”

He felt a muscle jump at the side of his jaw and forced himself to relax. “I wanted kisses, Angel. I wanted you in my bed. Don’t ever think I didn’t.”

She shook back her hair and angled her chin higher. “And now? Do you still want me?”

Brand saw the challenge in the jut of her chin, but he also saw the vulnerability. There in her doe-like eyes. And the only thing he could think to do, because he sure as hell couldn’t force another word past his tight throat, was lean toward her and kiss her.

A little while back, I asked readers on the Wild & Wicked Cowboy website to help me come up with a title for the book I’ll be writing for the next Cowboy 12-Pack collection. Our last collection centered around cowboys who were firefighters, and I used a firefighting term for the title of that story—Controlled Burn.

This time, the collection will center around cowboys who are also in law enforcement. So, I thought it might be fun to come up with a law enforcement term/police slang phrase for the title for the new novella.

Here are some of the awesome suggestions readers had for the title of my next Cowboy on the Edge story. I’d love for you to cast your vote for the title you love the most. You can choose up to three…

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And if you have a better suggestion, I’d love to hear it! Leave a comment for a chance to win a copy of Controlled Burn!

Writing for me is like have split personality disorder-everything is the opposite of the way it should be.  I am an organized person. I live by post-it notes, check lists and my calendar.  This is great, theoretically I should be plotter.  Outlines and structured plot points should be no problem.

Yeah right.  I get hives at character sheets and when I tried to plot a story ahead of time, I never wanted to write it. My muse was like “What’s the point? It’s all there in black and white.”

I love not knowing what will happen until I’m writing a scene. But I feel something is missing because writing wise, I’m not very organized. It gives me the heebie-jeebies not being in complete control.  So how do I cope?  Mindmaps!

My husband isn’t into fantasy like I am but he is the one who suggested I try organizing some of my timelines with mindmaps.  I couldn’t get a timeline to work but I love mindmaps for organizing my notes.  I keep everything in a mindmap now – characters, plotlines, places (maps, floorplans, names of cities), research and sometimes a glossary.

This is a screenshot of my mindmap for the current WIP tentatively titled Merman’s Curse, which is novella three in my Paranormals of Arilase series. I’m not sure this will be the published title but it works for now.  The program I use is a Mac only software called Curio. (You can do similar organizing with Microsoft OneNote)

I don’t have a lot filled in yet. Not even images for the hero and heroine. But that is what is so great with the mindmap and display board…it grows when I need it to. I always start with a story blurb and the main characters.  This story I had problems getting to know the heroine Kaycee, so I took a break from the mindmap and wrote a prologue.  It helped me figure out her powers and understand her better.

Now I can complete the initial information in the mindmap and start writing the rest of the story. The prologue won’t be in the final story but some of the information will be included in future chapters. Usually I know my characters before starting a story. This time that didn’t work out.  That’s both the joy and frustration with my writing process.  It’s always changing even when I wish it would stay the same.

So tell me, are you a post-it note, checklist or fly-by the seat of your pants type person?

I’ll randomly select a commenter to receive a notebook with the cover of my werewolf short story Informally Yours.

*********

Enchantress’ Destiny by Beth Caudill

One dark curse, two elves and a destiny neither could escape.

Cursed at his birth by a dark elf, Rowe Calder avoids personal entanglements, especially his betrothal to Caliressa Bellehaven. Circumstances force them together and love won’t be denied. But the dark elf claims his vengeance and only the strongest enchantress can reclaim Rowe’s soul.

Series: Paranormals of Arilase – Novella 2
Genre: Paranormal Romance / Fantasy Romance
Length: Novella – 25,200 words
Heat Level: Spicy

Available for Sale at:
Amazon – https://www.amzn.com/B00UNF3QKI/
            Barnes and Noble – https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/books/1121412070
            iBooks – https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/enchantress-destiny/id976609430?mt=11&uo=4
            Kobo – https://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/ebook/enchantress-destiny
            Google – https://play.google.com/store/books/details/Beth_Caudill_Enchantress_Destiny?id=v4NhBwAAQBAJ
            All Romance eBooks – https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-enchantress039destiny-1764005-143.html

About the Author

Although Beth grew up in West Virginia, she currently resides in North Carolina with her husband, two sons and a Cavalier King Charles Spaniel who makes an excellent lap warmer. Blending the analytical and creative sides of her brain, she delights in creating fantasy worlds for others. Catch her online most days except when NCIS and Once Upon a Time air.

Author Website: https://BethCaudill.net/
Author Newsletter: https://eepurl.com/fs6SU
Author Email: beth@bethcaudill.net
Author Twitter: https://www.twitter.com/beth_caudill/
Author Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/AuthorBethCaudill
Author Pinterest: https://pinterest.com/bethcaudill13/
Author Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/bethcaudill
Amazon Author Page: https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B00538IWEU

UPDATE: Rbeey Swan is the winner of the gift card!

* * * * *

Thanks a bunch for the blog invite, Delilah! A big, down home wave is coming your way from the Southernmost point of the USA!

Since this is my first visit to your spot, let’s get acquainted with a little Q&A.  Afterwards, you can read an excerpt from my latest release in the Bachelors of Shell Cove series, CONVINCING LINA.

**Giveaway Alert!**

Plotter or Pantser?
I am a hybrid of the two–a plotster. I create a loose plot diagram for the beginning, middle, and end of my manuscript. It takes me about six hours to record the turning points, and then I start writing.

What’s on your desk?
Salt and pepper. I write at my dining room table.

E-books, print, or both? Any preferences? Why?
I love the feel of a book in my hands, but I can read about 400 pages per day. Translation-buying print books when you can read a book a day is a financial disaster in the making. Digital books are purse friendly.

What’s the strangest thing you’ve ever done in the name of research?
I travel to most of the destinations mentioned in my books. In the past twelve months, I’ve visited Ireland, the Dominican Republic, Peru, West Virginia, Florida, New York, and Texas. My husband is so over the novelty of research!

Music while you write? What kind?
Each one of my books has a soundtrack. Generally, the soundtrack is a mixture of rhythm and blues, country, and soft rock. I tend to listen to the soundtrack before I start my writing day.

Email/social media before or after you start writing?
I spend 15 minutes on social media, eat my breakfast, and then I sit down to write. This routine helps me to focus on the task to come-writing, not the fear of what will I write today.

What do you read? Do you read different genres when you’re writing vs not writing?
I read fiction and non-fiction. Typically, I read historical fiction to relax. I’m a retired nurse practitioner and I enjoy reading about nurses and the nursing profession. Currently, I am reading NIGHTINGALES, The Extraordinary Upbringing and Curious Life of Miss Florence Nightingale.

Thongs or bikinis?
In CONVINCING LINA,  the story starts in sunny Shell Cove, FL before the hero whisks Lina away to Waverly Falls, WV. Lina James is a curvy psychiatric nurse that has a lingerie drawer full of thongs. Curvy women rise up and take your rightful place in the Hall of Heroines.

Favorite beverage while writing?
I’m a southerner, so sweet tea is my coffee. I take this stuff intravenously during my writing sprints.

You’re a new addition to the crayon box, what color would you be and why?
I would be the color Sunrise. A combination of the sweetest Florida oranges, the energy of Gala red apples, and the happiness of yellow marigolds in full bloom.

CONVINCING LINA, is Book 2 in the Bachelors of Shell Cove series.

Lina James, psychiatric nurse and self-proclaimed independent woman isn’t going to allow another man to walk out of her life. Her love is officially off the market. She’s declared a preemptive strike on the male species with a man-fast. There’s just one glitch in Lina’s detox plan–Gideon. Her blood sugars spikes remembering the one kiss they shared.

Gideon Rice, is a veteran Marine and respected psychiatrist with more emotional wounds than his patients. He lives his life in camouflage–a wall between his rejection filled past and his new life ensures the two worlds never intersect. Gideon’s life plan is simple–give wounded warriors a place to heal and convince Lina James she’s the only woman for him.

When Lina’s past brings danger to her doorstep, she’s forced to accept Gideon’s help. His tender touch and determination to keep her safe, rocks the foundation of her man-fast, but she’s determined to resist her cravings.

How will she keep him at arm’s length when he is the safe haven she’s always wanted?

In a high stakes game of cat and mouse, how will they find the courage to risk their hearts in a fight for their lives?

Convincing Lina Excerpt

How many times had she believed a man when he said he was with her to stay? She had scoured the “sucker” tattoo off her forehead. Those words no longer held value. Words that were too easy to disregard, forget, or abandon. She knew from experience.

She exited the master suite dressed in a royal blue cotton sleep set with capped sleeves. The v-neckline was tasteful, rather than revealing. She expected to see him stretched out on the sofa when she descended the stairs from the master suite. Gideon was organized, so it was odd to think he required extra time in the bathroom. Her graphite color couch was unoccupied.

Crossing to the darkened kitchen area, she hesitated a moment outside of the guest suite. She gave a quick rap on the door and waited.

“Come in.” Gideon’s voice hit her ear in a perfect amount of base. Her body vibrated like a tuning fork. Read the rest of this entry »

We head back to Colorado for an exciting adventure. Meet a real Madame with a shady past, a sexy billionaire and a former female Texas Ranger turned Covert Cowboy (er cowgirl, in this case). What do I love about the Covert Cowboys, Inc. series? I love the sexy men and women who have something to prove. Not to anyone else, but to themselves. My heroes are drool-worthy and my heroines are strong and feisty.

Psst! Contest information is beneath the excerpt!

CLANDESTINE CHRISTMAS
Covert Cowboys Inc #8
Available now in print and in ebook Nov 1

Amazon | Nook | Kobo | IBooks | GooglePlay

Sexy cowboy ropes in stunning secret agent!

A wickedly handsome billionaire rancher, Chase Marsden is past his dissolute playboy days. With Covert Cowboys’ Kate Rivers posing as his fiancée, he’s determined to find the culprits trying to murder an old—and notorious—friend many would kill to keep silent.

From the moment Chase eyes Kate—beautiful, tough, but vulnerable—he knows she’s the one. Kate, a former Texas Ranger, fears nothing but Chase’s reckless kisses. As they investigate together, each clue puts their lives further in jeopardy. Will Christmas find them under the mistletoe…or escaping kidnappers and dodging hit men?

Excerpt:

Chase sat back in his chair at the Lucky Lady Saloon in Fool’s Fortune, Colorado, letting the three-hundred-dollar-a-bottle whiskey and the lilting sound of Sadie Lovely’s voice wash over him.

Today marked the anniversary of his obligation to his grandfather’s will. In order to inherit all of what his grandfather left him, he had to agree to live at the Lucky Lady Ranch for two entire years without leaving for more than one month out of each year.

Finally, he was free to choose wherever he wanted to go, whatever he wanted to do and whomever he wanted to do it with.

But he wasn’t really. In the past two weeks, he’d gone from anticipating leaving the ranch to his overseer to promising to stay until things settled down with Sadie.

Fifteen years older than him, she was a friend from his former playboy life, really an acquaintance who’d saved him from being mugged by thugs and drowning in a gutter when he’d been too drunk and stupid to help himself.

Tough as nails, with a heart of gold, Sadie had held off the thugs with a .40-caliber pistol she kept strapped to her thigh beneath her evening dress. She’d dragged him into her home, sobered him up and asked for nothing in return.

He’d offered her his friendship, and even got to know her grandson, Jake, a cute little boy with curious green eyes. He wasn’t sure what had happened to cause Jake’s mother to crash her car, hadn’t asked and Sadie hadn’t volunteered the information. It was clear she was raising the boy to the best of her ability.

When she’d come to him two weeks ago, scared and in need of his help, he’d opened his doors to her, set her up with a job at one of the businesses he’d inherited from his grandfather and helped her move her and her grandson into his big empty house on the Lucky Lady Ranch until she could get set up in a place of her own.

Sadie ended her song and descended from the stage to sit in the chair opposite Chase. In her late forties, she was still an attractive woman, with smooth curves and a sultry smile. “I’m glad you came.”

Chase sat forward, the mild buzz from the alcohol clearing as he leaned forward. “I came as soon as I got your message. I must say I’m surprised you agreed to perform tonight.”

She shrugged. “I never know when a threat is real or just a threat. All I know is that I can’t live my life like this. I have to work to support my grandson. Speaking of which.” She bit her lip, the lines around her eyes more pronounced than usual. “I want to make sure you’re still good for my backup should anything happen to me where Jake’s concerned.”

“I’m his godfather now. I’d do anything for the kid.”

She reached across the table and touched his arm. “Even raise him as your own?” Sadie held his gaze.

Chase’s chest tightened. “That won’t be an issue. He’s got you.” Read the rest of this entry »