I am not a fan of Valentine’s Day. I think it forces people to proclaim their affection for others in rather commercial and materialistic ways. I find it ridiculous that we measure someone’s love by how widely they open their wallet on a single day.

Consider these numbers:

• This year, Americans are expected to spend $19.6 billion on Valentine’s Day.
• In 2018, the average consumer spent $143.56 on Valentine’s Day gifts. (Only $5.50 was spent on pets.)
• Approximately 144 million cards will be exchanged on that day.

That’s a pretty large investment in love, but I want to know I am loved 365 days a year.

So it may seem strange that my latest book, The White House Wedding, is considered a Valentine’s Day romance. However, my book focuses more on the intangibles of love, rather than on a holiday that celebrates love.

For me, all the chocolates, flowers, and jewels in the world won’t compensate for a tender kiss, a gentle hug, a whispered, “I love you.” A man who listens, who comforts, who supports, and who encourages is worth far more than truffles and champagne. He is priceless.

I don’t ask for and I don’t expect baubles and treats on Valentine’s Day. In fact, I don’t even want them. They have no real value. A man who feeds my soul, fills my heart, and stimulates my mind is all I need. You can’t buy love—though some may disagree. Love thrives on intangibles. It’s the million little things that wrap your life and your heart in a blanket of kindness, affection, contentedness, and peace.

I have been in love. I have thought I shared true love. I believed my love was everlasting. Only to have my heart shattered into a million pieces, the illusions held in the mirror of my soul obliterated. The anguish that followed was intense. The despair and denial. The utter hopelessness. Then the anger and the urge for revenge. And, finally the acceptance, the acknowledgment that it was time to move on. I can honestly say gifts or the lack thereof have never played a role in the failure of my relationships. The lack of intangibles did.

Because love isn’t a dozen roses on Valentine’s Day. Love just is.

An Interview with Seelie Kay

Q. Why do you write romance?

Because I am fascinated by the games people play to find and secure a lasting relationship, which is not always love. There’s the chase, the courtship, the falling, the surrender. That’s what I try to capture in my stories.

Q. Do you prefer a certain type of romantic hero?

I adore smart, dashing gentlemen who aren’t afraid to live on the edge. They can be a bad boy, a billionaire, a prince, or a secret agent. That hint of danger just hooks me! However, I also love strong, independent women who aren’t afraid to fight for what they want, even love.

Q. Why did you write The White House Wedding?

It was a bit of a romp, really. I wanted to play off all the craziness that is politics and Washington, D.C. The creatures in the great swamp have become so predictable, a story about the political implications and hijinks of a White House wedding just flowed from my pen. Plus, I always found it interesting that a country that intentionally broke away from the monarchy, goes crazy over royal weddings. Admittedly, I am one of them. I won’t get up at 4 a.m. to watch, like so many of my friends, but I will tape a royal wedding and watch it later. And yes, I did seek teacups from Diana’s nuptials. Unfortunately, none were to be found. At least stateside. I imagine once she dumped Prince Charles, their value went up dramatically! Unfortunately, White House weddings are rare and although we go crazy over royal weddings, I doubt things would proceed so smoothly here. Every aspect of the wedding would be dissected and criticized by the media and political opponents, making the wedding itself a pretty negative experience, which is probably so few occur here.

Q. The characters in this book also appeared in The President’s Daughter?

Yes. The President’s Daughter is where the bride’s—Sarah Lee Pearson—story first began. She had been kidnapped at age five and raised by her nanny into her teen years. It was only after the people who raised her were killed in a paper mill explosion that she began to search for other relatives. A chance meeting with a presidential candidate, Jamisen Powell, leads her search in a new direction and she discovers that he is, in fact, her birth father. This is the continuation of that new relationship.

Q. I imagine in this day and age, being the president’s daughter would not be an altogether positive experience.

(Laughs.) As I observe the impact of the Trump presidency on his children, I am exceptionally happy I was never put in that position. It must be a horrible experience. We live in such negative times, a time when people seem to place high value on their ability to shred reputations and destroy people. All of the current chaos puts us one step away from anarchy. In fact, if you think about it, it would be a perfect time for the Monarchy to attempt to reclaim the colonies. We are so busy fighting each other, I question whether we would band together to fight an outside threat. That’s just sad.

Q. How does your former profession as a lawyer impact your writing?

In two ways. First, my knowledge of the legal system permits me to predict the outcome of certain events. Those events have played a key role in some of my stories. Second, my friends say I am obsessed with justice and I guess that’s true. After 30 years, the law and the legal world are so firmly embedded in my brain that I can’t flush them out. That has become the lens through which I view the world and that naturally guides my characters and plots. Injustice infuriates me, but it also leads me to great stories!

The White House Wedding

When politics interferes with love, can love survive?

Getting married isn’t easy when your father’s the President of the United States! After reluctantly agreeing to a White House wedding, Sarah Lee Pearson, the president’s daughter, finds herself swept into a political maelstrom of unimagined proportions.

The White House staff and the first lady see the wedding as a political event, a way to sweep the president into his next term. Congress is complaining about the collateral costs. The media is delightfully rehashing every aspect of Sarah’s life, even those events that have nothing to do with the impending marriage. And the American public? Visions of an American royal wedding have swept them into a frenzy and vendors take advantage, making a quick buck off of everything from limited edition t-shirts to commemorative teacups.

Sarah and her fiancé, Sam, fight hard to ignore the craziness, but after learning a bounty has been put on their heads by an anti-government militia group, they have to decide whether a White House wedding is indeed worth it. And given all the hurtful controversy, perhaps a better solution is to not get married at all.

Excerpt from The White House Wedding…

“How does my father feel about this?” Sarah asked.

“Your father wants you to do what makes you happy.”

Jamisen Powell entered his Chief of Staff’s office and nodded coldly at Jeremiah. He added, “He would never ask you to do otherwise.”

Sarah smiled and rose to kiss her father on the cheek. “Thanks, Dad. I knew you wouldn’t ask me to be a political stool pigeon.”

Jamie Powell chuckled. “No. That job apparently falls to staff.” He smiled at Sarah. “Look, hopefully, you only get married once. Make a memory that will mean the most to you and Sam. Nothing else matters.” He shook his head, “Maybe Jeremiah will get lucky and your sister, Melissa, will hook some poor sucker before the next election. She and her mother would be overjoyed planning a White House wedding.”

Jeremiah scowled. “I am only thinking about your re-election, Mr. President. Your first term has been a bit rocky. You need a solidifying factor, something that will grab the hearts and minds of the American public and provide a clear path into the next term. Your story, a daughter lost and found after twenty-five years, especially a daughter who just happens to be a stellar human being and a successful international law attorney, won their hearts in the first election.

“Walking that same daughter down the aisle, something you had never dreamed was possible? The ratings alone will rival a royal wedding. No offense, but Melissa’s marriage—if it ever happens—could never have the same impact. People don’t view her in the same light as Sarah. Melissa is a flighty socialite. Her deep-seated sense of entitlement offends. The ratings for her wedding would be nonexistent. But Sarah? She’s the golden child. The American public loves her.”

The president’s sapphire blue eyes, which mirrored Sarah’s, flashed with annoyance. “Be that as it may, I am not about to force either of my daughters into something they don’t want. Sarah has declined your request, and as far as I am concerned, that’s the end of it. You will have to find another solidifying factor, Jer. Surely I have done something that’s re-election worthy!”

Buy links:
Publisher: https://www.extasybooks.com/978-1-4874-2796-2-the-white-house-wedding/
Amazon: TBD
Barnes and Noble: TBD
Kobo: TBD

About Seelie Kay

Seelie Kay is a nom de plume for an award-winning writer, editor, and author with more than 30 years of experience in law, journalism, marketing, and public relations. When Seelie writes about love and lust in the legal world, something kinky is bound to happen! In possession of a wicked pen and an overly inquisitive mind, Ms. Kay is the author of multiple works of fiction, including the Kinky Briefs series, the Feisty Lawyers series, The Garage Dweller, A Touchdown to Remember, The President’s Wife, and The President’s Daughter.

When not spinning her kinky tales, Ms. Kay ghostwrites nonfiction for lawyers and other professionals. She resides in a bucolic exurb outside Milwaukee, Wisconsin, where she shares a home with her son and enjoys opera, gourmet cooking, organic gardening, and an occasional bottle of red wine.

Ms. Kay is an MS warrior and ruthlessly battles the disease on a daily basis. Her message to those diagnosed with MS: Never give up. You define MS, it does not define you!

Author links:
Website: https://www.seeliekay.com
Blog: https://www.seeliekay.blogspot.com
Twitter: @SeelieKay https://twitter.com/SeelieKay
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/seelie.kay.77
Amazon author page: https://www.amazon.com/Seelie-Kay/e/B074RDRWNZ/

Prior Books:
https://www.extasybooks.com/kinky-briefs/
https://www.extasybooks.com/kinky-briefs-too/
https://www.extasybooks.com/kinky-briefs-thrice/
https://www.extasybooks.com/978-1-4874-1734-5-kinky-briefs-quatro/
https://www.extasybooks.com/978-1-4874-2023-9-kinky-briefs-cinque/
https://www.extasybooks.com/the-garage-dweller/
https://www.extasybooks.com/978-1-4874-1504-4-a-touchdown-to-remember/
https://www.extasybooks.com/978-1-4874-1795-6-the-presidents-wife/
https://www.extasybooks.com/978-1-4874-2263-9-snatching-diana/
https://www.extasybooks.com/978-1-4874-2032-1-the-presidents-daughter
https://www.extasybooks.com/978-1-4874-2291-2-infamy/
https://www.extasybooks.com/978-1-4874-2349-0-seizing-hope/
https://www.extasybooks.com/978-1-4874-2538-8-cult/
https://www.extasybooks.com/978-1-4874-2658-3-hope/

I love the fall. I don’t know why. It’s not that we have much fall weather here. And I prefer when the flowers are in full bloom and the extended daylight hours. I enjoy the warmth of the sun on my skin while walking in the park. In essence, I’m really a summer/spring girl, but I don’t dislike fall.

Fall is fun. With fall comes the warm tone colors of browns, golds, and oranges—all colors that I look fantastic wearing. Well, some browns and a few oranges, but that’s a story for a fashion post. I like to think of fall as the beginning of the festive season. Typically, spring is seen as the season of rebirth; it’s said that mother nature springs to life. (See what I did there?) But if one thinks about it, it’s the fall that things happen that people get moving. Fall is where everything starts booming and falls into place. (See, that I did it again?) Before anyone disagrees, think about it.

In the U.S., it kicks off with Labor Day—the official storage of white clothing. At least, traditionally, that was how it used to be prior to the invention of “winter white” and “I wear whatever the heck I want.” Kids go back to school with the latest uniform fashions. (Being a high school fashion icon is no longer what it used to be and slowly becoming a relic.) Television fall lineups premiere. Usually, there’s a string of fall festivals/Oktoberfests. Pumpkins start appearing and then transform into jack-o’-lanterns. (Does anyone used that term anymore?) Things start to get spooky with the anticipation of Halloween.

Actually, the spook factor is no longer a given with more and more people opting for cute and over-the-top sexy as opposed to ghoulish. People gorge themselves on chocolates and candies (not once or twice, but several times during this season). People get jovial with pranks and having someone make the hair stand on the back of their necks.

Then, there’s a shift towards focusing on family and togetherness and the commercialization of buying overpriced gifts that no one needs, and spirals buyers into debt. In the meantime and in-between time in the U.S., there’s a huge feast fest where no turkey is safe that mainstream media—but not the Board of Education—basically ignores. Dinner tables are stacked with Grandma’s sweet potato pie and Aunt Helen’s (everyone has an aunt Helen) stuffing.

On a side note, when I was in grade school, we got two days off for Thanksgiving—the holiday and a day of recovery from gluttony… Well, that and the fact many people traveled to see family. Nah, the teachers just wanted the day off. Now, kids get the full week and adults are promised earlier and earlier bird sales. What started as opening early at 7:00 AM or 6:00 AM long ago was scaled back to 5:00 AM, 4:00 AM, 3:00 AM, midnight, Thursday evening. Anymore and “Black Friday” will begin November 1. And let’s not forget: Cyber Saturday, Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday. At this point, it’s all ridiculous in my opinion.

But this joyful (for many) time is saturated with nostalgic movies, tall trees with branches sagging from ceramic ornaments, snowball fights (or so southerners are told), and more food (and weight gain). Good will becomes a theme, and red kettlebells can be heard ringing across cities. There are tree lightings and parties after parties. By now, people are calling it winter.

There’s lots of buildup, and before long, Christmas has come and gone. There isn’t much time to recuperate before people drink themselves into a new year with a hoard of self-promises (you know, a.k.a., resolutions) that they break within a month.

Lurking not too far around the corner is V-Day. (No, the other V-Day and not the one that happened on May 8, 1945.) I’m talking about the red heart, baby wears a diaper and shoots pink candy arrows at folks (allegedly). Yes, I’m speaking of Valentine’s Day, which leads us to the present. (Talk about a dissertation for an intro. I think I’ve outdone myself.)

I’ve always known Valentine’s Day to be a crazy bipolar type of day. By bipolar, I mean the mood of most people/shops are to the extreme. Either people love or loath this day. Some consider it one huge money grab, and from the way it is promoted, I honestly can’t disagree. Locally, schools and businesses have limited, restricted, or even barred deliveries on this day. I remember my school office looking like a funeral visitation for a dignitary. Balloons, flowers, and stuffed animals covered ever available surface space. My understanding is that the situation has grown worse, and on Valentine’s Day all deliveries are redirected to tables erected in the gym. Students are allowed to visit at lunch to see if they have a treat and only remove anything after the final bell. A teacher is posted throughout the day to monitor and guard deliveries. Reportedly, public schools have taken steps further and disallowed any school deliveries but allow the student council to sell Hershey’s Kisses and paper heart cutouts.

During my time (to make myself sound antiquated), this was a day of great distress. Students with overly indulgent parents, puppy love-stricken significant others, or birthdays close to that date would hit the jackpot. They would be loaded with so much loot that they had to make multiple trips to load all their goodies into their cars. Other students were left feeling unloved, forgotten, and abandoned as they received nothing. Most times, their feelings were unjustified. Flowers are expensive, and not all families could afford large bouquets, especially for parents with several children. And it wasn’t like today where one could make a run to Walmart or even the dollar store and purchase a bouquet for a couple of bucks. And other parents were clueless. (That would be me.) Who would think to send a kindergartener a dozen roses? Yes, parents did that. Talk about peer pressure at it’s finest. I felt horrible having not thought to send my five-year-old anything and having her see all the other kids with gifts. For what? She didn’t even like flowers. I took her for a Happy Meal that afternoon, but you best believe the next year I didn’t forget. But where I work, they make Valentine’s Day baskets filled with chips, a soft drink, and candy for a reasonable price.

But let me tell you what I think the ultimate Valentine’s Day gift is. It is showing kindness. It is being there for others. It is taking an extra step to make someone feel wanted and loved. And this isn’t something that is done one day of the year. It is something that is done throughout the year. It is an action that should be shown and expressed daily. Because one day, there will not be another Valentine’s Day.

Over the years, I’ve received Valentine’s Day gifts, and honestly, I don’t remember most. But I do remember the day when I was still in high school when thunderstorms cropped up without much warning. Either the meteorologist had missed it or it didn’t show up on his radar. That afternoon, it was pouring. Few people had come to school prepared. When I exited, I saw my father standing with an umbrella, waiting for me. Not only had he thought about me, he’d taken the time to act. That is something I’ve never forgotten. Now that he’s gone, it’s one of my most precious memories. And that day wasn’t Valentine’s Day.

So, the message is don’t look for love in one day. Don’t only store the sincerity of feelings in diamonds and flowers. Many people make wedding vows and exchange rings only to pawn them after a bitter divorce. Flowers die. Chocolates can grow stale and mold. But true love in action is trapped in our hearts and extends into eternity. Have a happy Valentine’s Day.

For more of how I write, my stories, and my shenanigans, giveaways, and more, check out my blog, Creole Bayou, www.genevivechambleeconnect.wordpress.com. And speaking of giveaways, I have one coming soon in celebration of my new steamy, sports romance, Ice Gladiators, guaranteed to melt the ice. It’s the third book in my Locker Room Love series. Ice Gladiators is being released February 15, 2020. Check her out. If you like makeup, you won’t want to miss this beauty of a prize.

Taz has problems: a stalled career, a coach threatening to destroy him, a meddling matchmaking roommate, and a thing for his other roommate’s boyfriend. The first three are manageable, but the last… well, that’s complicated. Because as much as Taz is attempting not to notice Liam, Liam is noticing him.

New posts are made on Wednesdays, and everything is raw and unscathed. Climb on in a pirogue and join me on the bayou. If you have any questions or suggestions about this post or any others, feel free to comment below or tweet me at @dolynesaidso. You also can follow me on Instagram at genevivechambleeauthor or search me on Goodreads or Amazon Authors.

Missed the two books in my sports romance series? No frets. Out of the Penalty Box, where it’s one minute in the box or a lifetime, out is available at https://amzn.to/2Bhnngw. It also can be ordered on iTunes, Nook, or Kobo. Visit www.books2read.com/penalty. Defending the Net can be ordered at www.books2read.com/defending. Crossing the line could cost the game.

Until next time, happy reading and much romance.

Thank you Delilah for this opportunity to showcase my newest release, Karma’s Slow Burn, about a sports journalist and a pro-ball pitcher turned chef. This incorporates my second and third passions: food and baseball.

This book is out of my hands now and out there, finally! Each time this happens, it is a thrill. Which I why I keep doing it. I’m actually exhausted by the planning and slotting of promos this requires. Which means I’m less inspired to write which in turn pisses me off. Which brings me to the eternal mystery: Why am I doing this?

Ah yes, I bloody love it! Things are quiet now before a new storm of promos hits me early next week. I will be googly-eyed after that. Still grabbing the time here and there to work on my next contemporary romance, the second in my East meets West series, 100 Acres of Separation: The Princess and the Cowboy. The first, Bollywood Blues, is somewhere out there, and I’m waiting for that boomerang to hit me any time now.

I know many of you are seasoned writers comfortable navigating NetGalley and Edelweiss, but I will not be using NetGalley or Edelweiss for my next book. It was a waste of money for me (as an unknown writer) and all stats and testimonials should be taken with a hefty pinch of salt.

Karma’s Slow Burn

Karma’s Slow Burn, only $0.99, new release!
Buy Links:
www.amazon.com/gp/product/B07ZJSZD5X
https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/957769

Sportswriter Karma Huntington is going to hit Rafael Henley, star pitcher for the Sliders, hard to avenge her husband’s death. Rafael cannot ignore the chemistry between them and decides a one-night stand is in order. Karma agrees. Just to get that itch off. But once they get into each other’s pants, things get complicated. Revenge and guilt take a back seat with sizzling chemistry in control. Rafael likes willowy blondes and women who don’t look to him as their protector. Yet here is, lusting after the complete opposite: petite, raven-haired, Karma with a rose tat running up her neck. Can Rafael overcome the dark secret he hides and give in to what his heart wants? Will Karma finally admit she needs Rafael?

Excerpt from Karma’s Slow Burn: X-rated

Henley got back the very day the Sliders swept the White Sox. He got in late but Karma heard him anyway. She was reading, her face illuminated by the light from the e-reader. She put it down when she heard the door click. He came in, kicked his shoes off and sat down next to her, sighing deeply. She knew the feeling. He was happy to be home.

“I see you were up to the challenge.” He undid the top four buttons on his shirt and un-tucked it.

If he took his shirt off she was going to scream. Or jump him. It all depended. She was not going to ask him if he had eaten or if he wanted a drink. She was not his maid or his wife. He could very well get anything he wanted from his kitchen.

“Yep, I was. Great trip sweeping the Sox.”

A smile bloomed on his lips. “Indeed it was. Thanks for making it happen.”

“No worries. What are friends for, right?”

“So I’m a friend now?” He stood up and unclipped the cufflinks, pecs flexing, drawing her eyes to them.

“You’re not a lover. And friends cannot be lovers. That’s rule number 5.”

“In what book?”

“In my book of life.”

“What’s rule number 4?”

“You’re not an enemy. Enemies cannot be lovers either.”

He frowned then a smile twitched on his lips. “Hmm. Good to know.”

“Wait a sec! What was the smile all about?”

“Oh, just that I’m not enemy so I can be a lover.”

“No way!”

“That’s what you said. I heard you clearly. You said and I quote, ‘You’re not an enemy. Enemies cannot be lovers.’ I distinctly heard you say it.”

“Yeah so?”

“It means I can be a lover.”

“Yes a lover, just not mine.”

“You will not admit defeat.” He turned away from her. “Going to hit the shower. Be right back.”

His shirt flapped open as he walked away, patches of tanned skin flashing at her, leaving her hungry for more. She knew she should skedaddle out of there while she still could. But she was moored to the sectional, an unusual lethargy invading her limbs. Henley after a shower would be impossible to resist. She was a sucker for challenges and this one had her name written all over it.

Rafael stood in the doorway to the corridor leading to the bedrooms, watching Karma as she stared out into the night, her e-reader by her side. She’d gone way beyond a simple favor. And she’d done it, no questions asked. Karma was beautiful and he wanted her in his life. She was loyal and honest, all five feet nothing of her. From the top of her ebony head, down her luscious body to the tips of her delicate feet, she was in his dreams all the time.

He had to accept it. He had to forget the past. What was done was done. She was gorgeous and brave. He wanted her. He craved her touch. And right now all he wanted was to take her in his arms and make her disappear in them. Kiss her sexy mouth and see her with the lights on. That night had been unforgettable. It was not a one-night thing for him anymore. He had a hunch it wasn’t for her either. Her kiss told him that. He wanted to be buried deep inside her again feel her slick velvet folds clench around him and relieve him of this sweet torture.

He came toward her. She turned her head and watched him approach. He wondered if she was wearing the blue lace thing under the black satin top. Her hair was loose and hung down her back in soft waves. He wanted her body on red satin sheets, black hair fanning out and legs spread out for him to feast upon, her brown eyes watching his every move.

Hot desire welled up in him. His dick thickened. From his towering height, he looked down at her. Gray eyes hit her smoldering dark ones pulsing with black and gold flecks. Wisps of her irresistible scent lit sparks and fanned the embers of his desire into a raging fire so hot he took a step back. It would consume him. He would devour her. She would make him forget who he was.

It was what he craved.

He dropped to his knees by her side.

“I want to break the deal, Karma.” He heard her take in a sharp breath. “What happened was not a one-night stand for me. I dream of you all the time, of burying myself deep in you. I can’t forget that. I want to touch you again. Taste you again. Sweetheart, this is not something I can forget.”

He didn’t know it but the endearment was the third strike against her disintegrating defenses. She fell into his arms. He wrapped them around her and she disappeared.

“Rafe, break it then.” Her voice was a husky whisper.

And the deal was toast.

*~*~*

Fireflies in the Night

Literary Fiction, winner of the 2017 Next Generation Indie Book Award; Best Books of 2016 by Kirkus Reviews; Starred Kirkus Review; Finalist Foreword Reviews Indie Fiction Award. A historical, coming-of-age novel.

Buy Link: https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B01HZS28CW

The Enemy Within

Literary Fiction; Women’s Fiction

-Profound, Heart-Wrenching Story 4.5 stars, Amazon.com: Recommended for the mind and the soul

– Intense and Beautiful Look at Life, Love and Purpose, 5 stars, Amazon.com: From the familiar of India to the total unfamiliar of Quebec, Canada, where emotionally unsupported by her arrogant, selfish and traditional new husband, Sita must chart a way for herself through the myriad of problems being a different coloured, different cultured immigrant brings.

-Beautiful but heartrending, 5 stars, Amazon.com: …covers a multitude of issues from the iniquity of arranged marriages to the racism inherent in Quebec’s society to the rivalry and jealousy in the academic world.

Buy Link:
https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B01N6QVRHJ

About the author

Nalini Warriar dreamed of being a writer then forgot the dream for a bit as she went on to garner a Ph.D in Molecular Biology. While in her lab, the dream came back and hit her on the head and she’s never looked back writing through her years as a scientist. After more than a decade in cancer research, Nalini returned to the creative part of her soul and now devotes her time to dreaming up the perfect alpha male and feisty woman to appear in her books. Her novel, Fireflies in the Night, was a Foreword Reviews Fab Award finalist and won the Next Generation Indie Book Award in 2017. Kirkus Reviews awarded Fireflies in the Night a starred review and named it Best Books of 2016. Karma’s Slow Burn, a contemporary romance will be released in February 2020. She’s working on her next romance, a Crenshaw Brothers book, to be released in 2020. She lives in Ontario, Canada.

Author Links:
www.facebook.com/authornaliniwarriar
www.amazon.com/author/naliniwarriar
Twitter: @nwarriar

Psst! Just a reminder that there are three contests still running…
Enter while you can!

So, I’m still buried in “stuff” in my new office area. My desk is still a disaster, but I will tackle that today. In the meantime, my dd is tackling her massive move, ten boxes at a time. She fills boxes at her place, brings them over, puts the stuff away, then takes them back for the next load. Of course, she’s still moving around the furnishings that remained in the house to suit the new arrangement for her children. Since I’m old (**cough**), I’m excused from helping her move her things. But I do things like dishes that need to run through the dishwasher before they’re put away in the cabinets, laundry, etc.—and my workload, since my job still has to be done.

While all that chaos is happening around me, Brian is shaping up. I’m offering you a peek inside the first scene of the book, so you get to meet Brian before he was injured. I hope you like it, and again, if you haven’t already pre-ordered the book, here’s the link: Brian.

I’d love your feedback. I’ll think about offering up an excerpt from Raydeen’s point of view soon as well. Remember, the book releases February 24th!

Brian

MONTANA BOUNTY HUNTERS: Authentic Men… Real Adventures…

Physical Therapist, Raydeen Pickering, has seen her fill of stubborn veterans, some too angry to get on with their lives, some still living in hell in their minds, and some unwilling to let their broken bodies hold them back. She hasn’t figured out which Brian Cobb is yet. The first time she met the handsome, wheelchair-bound man, he was wary and defensive, his gaze always sliding toward the door, looking for a quick escape from the Soldiers’ Sanctuary meetings.

Even now, there’s something about the ex-Army MP, now bounty hunter wrangler, that sets him apart from the other men she’s helped mend. There’s something more–not just the haunted look in his eyes or the still set of his shoulders. The way he looks at her when he thinks her attention is elsewhere gives her hope that she’ll reach him, and that he’ll let her help him regain more of what he’s lost.

First though, he has to figure out he’s in love with the wrong woman. The one he needs is right here, and if she has to do the chasing, so be it, because those looks he gives her have rekindled a fire she thought was lost forever…

Excerpt from Brian…

Sweat trickled down the sides of Brian Cobb’s face. His helmet felt heavy on his head, his pack dragged on his shoulders, and his boots were so hot he was walking in pools of water. The transport vehicles his squad had been promised hadn’t arrived, so they were hoofing it back to camp with half a dozen prisoners chained in a line. Still, their plight was better than the infantry platoon’s they’d left a click back. Once they’d given the ISIS fighters into Military Police custody, they’d headed back to continue their sweep for insurgents hiding inside the village with the unpronounceable name.

“Hey, Corncob,” Private First Class Benny Sanders said as he walked beside him.

“You know I hate that nickname, Sanders,” Brian muttered.

“Yeah, I do,” he said, his smile stretching across his dark face. Benny jerked his chin toward the slender figure striding ahead of the chained prisoners, her dog Tessa walking, unleashed by her side. “I see how you look at her. Are you and she…?”

Brian gave Benny a glare. “No. We’re just friends.”

“She have a boyfriend back in the States or something?”

“No, not that it’s any of your business.”

“Huh. Just thought since you two spend so much time together…”

Brian shook his head. “We’re friends. We hang. That’s all.” Not that he would mind if their friendship grew into something more. He’d had a thing for Jamie Burke since they’d met during their first drill together back in Kalispell, for what felt like eons ago. Jamie was certainly easy on the eyes with her wheat-blonde hair, lightly tanned skin, and golden-brown eyes.

However much he might have wished it otherwise, Jamie had assigned him to the “friend zone”—and because he valued their friendship, he’d never acted upon his attraction. Perhaps once they were back Stateside, he’d work up the courage to ask her out.

He’d played a multitude of scenarios in his mind of how he’d go about doing it without blowing their friendship to hell should she shoot him down. Not one of them felt like the right fit. Sure, they had lots in common—they loved playing basketball and soccer, liked working out, liked animals, were both from western Montana…

Well, maybe they didn’t have that much in common, but they could certainly build on what they shared now. Maybe he needed to figure out what she liked to do outside of the military, what her hobbies were, whether she liked to dance.

He liked to dance. He could imagine asking her out for a beer, just buddies going for a drink together. The music would start up, and he’d hike an eyebrow. She’d give a laugh and say something like, “If you don’t mind me stepping all over your toes,” and he’d lead her to the floor. Once he held her in his arms, maybe then she’d see him as someone she could consider as dating material…

Ahead, Tessa gave a whine and moved away from Jamie, her nose going to the ground as she searched the trail they walked, moving from one side to the other.

They’d left the village and were following a well-traveled trail that led through rocky hills. The area had been cleared of enemy combatants, so they’d been ordered to march the prisoners back. Still, the danger didn’t have to come from a sniper on a hilltop.

Jamie held up her closed fist, and the squad drew to a halt. Brian looked to his left. “Benny, keep an eye out,” he said, indicating the hills behind them.

The squad leader, Sergeant Milligan, strode up to Jamie. “What’s the holdup, Burke?”

“Don’t know yet, Sarge,” she said. “Tessa hasn’t indicated yet.”

Tessa moved ahead of the formation but lifted her nose from the trail and ran back to Jamie, her tail wagging.

Tessa reached down to give her a pat. “Must have had a whiff of something, but I think we’re cool to move on.”

However, Tessa gave another whine and sniffed the air. A moment later, she left Jamie’s side again, this time heading down the row of prisoners toward Brian, her nose to the ground, sniffing the trail then moving slightly off it to Brian’s right. She whined and moved closer to Brian.

Brian glanced around him. Tessa was a trained bomb dog. An IED might be nearby. But where? The rocky outcropping beside him caught his eye.

“Cobb!” Benny whispered.

He turned to glance at Benny, whose eyes were large. He tilted his head toward a hillside in the distance. Brian didn’t glance at it directly. “You see something?”

“A glint. Then some movement. Might be one tango.”

Brian had a bad feeling. “Jamie, call your dog back,” he said, keeping his voice natural, “I think we’ve got company.”

Sergeant Milligan began moving his way. Brian smiled and shook his head, trying to act like his heart wasn’t racing and his stomach hadn’t dropped to his boots. “Better keep back, Sarge,” he said, keeping his tone carefree. “I think there’s an IED in the rocks beside me, and Benny spotted movement at your three o’clock.”

The sergeant’s gaze betrayed his concern. “We have his buddies chained in a line. Maybe he actually gives a shit about them. How about you move forward, Cobb? Sanders,” he said, calling out to Benny, giving them both a strained smile. “You move, too. Get his friends between you and him. But move slow and natural. Don’t let him know we know he’s there.”

Although every one of the squad members was aware of the threat, they began to patter.

“Man, I can’t wait to get back to my bunk. Mama sent brownies. Got a few left.”

“No, you don’t, Packer. I snuck the last one when you were showering.”

“Shithead, you better not have.”

“Hey, Tessa,” Jamie called to her dog, indicating with a finger toward the ground that Tessa should move back to her side.

The dog ran back, turned in a neat circle, and sat beside her feet. Jamie’s gaze went to Brian. Her eyes were wide with fear, and her gaze shifted toward the rocks as she said, “Brian, you and I have a rematch to play against Pike and Sherman. Better hurry your ass up.”

Brian gave her a crooked grin, took a deep breath, and stepped out.

A shot sounded, and Benny dropped to his knees, his head sagging toward his chest.

Brian took another step, but sound exploded then went suddenly muffled. He felt something hammer against his lower body, felt searing pain, then he was flying, everything moving in slow motion, clumps of dirt and flares of fire, tumbling head over heels until he dropped with a sickening thud on the trail.

He couldn’t hear voices, but he saw movement—Sergeant Milligan pointing toward the hill and signaling for two men to move out and engage with the sniper; Pike kneeling beside Benny, who still knelt on his knees, blood gurgling from his chest.

Jamie’s face entered his vision. Tears filled her eyes.

“I’m okay,” he shouted, then pointed at his ears. “Can’t hear though. And I’m feelin’ a little…dizzy.” Okay, a lot, but he didn’t want to worry her.

Sergeant Milligan knelt beside Jamie, talking into his radio. Someone else moved to the opposite side of him…Kinsey, the medic. His back was to Brian as he leaned over his body.

Brian tried to get up on his elbows to tell him the problem wasn’t with his legs; it was with his head. He couldn’t hear, but then he glanced downward, past Kinsey.

His boots were gone. Then he realized…so were the feet that had been sweating inside them.

He drew a deep breath and glanced up at Jamie.

She was mouthing words he couldn’t hear, cupping his cheeks. When she bent and kissed his cheek, he knew he was dead. “I’m not fucking dying,” he tried to shout, but he knew it came out a whisper because he was weakening, barely able to keep his eyes open.

The wind pulsed against his face, and he opened his eyes, saw the helicopter above, a fiery trail of rounds blasting toward the hill before it wobbled in the air then settled on the sand beside the trail.

He raised a hand to point toward Benny. “Him first,” he said, glancing sideways, but Benny was no longer kneeling. He lay with his eyes open, staring up at the cloudless blue sky.

Kinsey moved away, and Brian glanced down. Tourniquets were on his legs, below his knees. He glanced at Jamie. “They find my boots?”

Her face crumpled, and Tessa wiggled her way in between Jamie and Sergeant Milligan. Her tongue lapped at his cheek. Her cold, wet nose nuzzled his ear.

Any other time, he would have pushed her away, but Brian no longer had the strength. “Hey…they find my boots?”

Thanks so much for welcoming me to your blog, Delilah. I always enjoy visiting! I’d like to share my inspiration for writing the Dr. Brogan Corkie Matchmaking Doctor series.

I’m so excited to introduce a new series — Dr. Brogan Corkie Matchmaking Doctor. I’ve been busy working on this series for the past year. I originally had the idea for this story two years ago. I’m a physician, and I work at an Urgent Care Clinic. I frequently see patients with infectious illnesses and advise them to stay home from school or work until they’re no longer contagious. Sometimes, it’s difficult for working parents to find care for their sick children — often they just can’t take a day off, and it’s nearly impossible to find a caregiver willing to look after a child who is ill. It also isn’t easy for someone living on their own to cope when they don’t feel well. I thought caring for the sick when they are temporarily ill would make a great job for a retired doctor, since a doctor wouldn’t be daunted by the illness.

That’s how Dr. Brogan Corkie’s character was born. Initially, I was going to have her look after the sick in their homes, and then bring two people together in that context. But when I started writing, I ended up giving Brogan a hobby — she enjoys cooking and catering for people and that became her second career. She uses her cooking know-how, her medical knowledge — and her matchmaking skills — to care for other people. I “upgraded” her M.D. from Medical Doctor to Matchmaking Doctor. Brogan is the romantic catalyst — she brings couples together and then through good advice and a warm heart she weaves her magic to make love happen. And throughout the series, Brogan’s own heart gets tangled up in romance, too! Medicine — it truly is a work of heart.

Don’t Drop the Baby
(Dr. Brogan Corkie Matchmaking Doctor Book 1)

Genre: Medical Romantic Comedy
Rating: PG

Dr. Brogan Corkie is happily semi-retired from medicine and now has time for other hobbies. Her passion for food is only second to her skill at matchmaking!

Ross Skye, owner of BabyCare, a high-end line of baby merchandise, is injured in an accident, and Brogan uses her cooking, medical — and matchmaking — skills to help him out. Dr. Lauren Kane is taking care of her nephew for two weeks, and Brogan agrees to babysit while Lauren is at work.

Two years ago, Ross and Lauren dated. At that time, Lauren wanted kids, but Ross wasn’t keen. Now the tables have turned, and Ross is trying to convince Lauren that they’d make an awesome parenting team. Brogan suggests they test-drive parenthood by looking after a simulated baby for a week — a computerized version that eats, sleeps, wets, and cries. Ross and Lauren experience the “joy” of having a newborn firsthand, and the bar is set pretty low. Their first goal is: don’t drop the baby. The second goal is to find out if their love for each other will survive the test of…parenting.

Excerpt Don’t Drop the Baby

Lauren picked up her phone on the first ring.

“Hey Lauren, it’s Ross.”

“Hello, Ross.”

Aloof and frosty. She must not have his name stored anymore or she wouldn’t have answered the phone. “How are you?”

“Fine.”

Ross winced. So far, so terrible. He jumped right to the chase. “Brogan mentioned that you’re taking Joey to her house this afternoon. I wondered if you’d consider changing your plans and bring him here instead.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Why would I?”

“They delivered some of the new merch from BabyCare, and I’d love to see how Joey reacts to it. He’s the perfect demographic.”

Silence. “Ross, you have a whole team of researchers and developers. I’m sure any product sent to you has already had extensive testing. I can’t see how my nephew’s reaction to it is going to make one iota of difference.”

His jaw dropped. He was glad she wasn’t in the room with him to see it. “Joey’s your nephew?”

She sighed. “Ross, what is this really about?”

“I didn’t realize Joey was your nephew.” His brain couldn’t get past this simple fact.

“Not that it’s any of your business. Are we done here?”

This was going nowhere fast. He decided to come clean. “Actually, Lauren, I’m asking as a favour.” His voice was sombre. “Since the accident, I’ve had trouble sleeping. I wake up with flashbacks.” It was hard to admit. “The only restful sleep I’ve had was when I fell asleep holding Joey, so I wanted to try it again.”

“So you can patent it?”

He grinned reluctantly. “I wish I could.”

“Eventually you’re going to have to deal with the demons, you know. You can’t just hire out a baby.”

“Maybe I’m rethinking having my own.” As soon as the words came out, he regretted it. “I’m sorry. I’m making a mess of this. Blame it on the lack of sleep. I know this is a temporary solution, but I’m desperate. Please Lauren. Could we just try? I have a roomful of BabyCare merchandise that I’d be happy to give you in exchange. You could take your pick.”

“My sister does love your stuff.” The grudging reluctance in her voice gave him a glimmer of hope. “Is Brogan okay with this?”

“Yes. And I promise, if he doesn’t settle with me, then Brogan can take him home.”

She sighed. “All right. As long as he’s happy and gets his sleep, I’m okay with it.”

“Thanks Lauren, I appreciate it.”

“Be good to him, Ross. I’m trusting you.”

“Of course. I’ll treat him like he’s my own.”

“Wasn’t that part of the problem?”

“Good point. I’ll treat him like he’s a pair of 100-level tickets to a Stanley Cup final game.”

Lauren laughed. “We’ll be there in half an hour.”

Buy link: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0847SFBFV

About the Author

Award-winning author Linda O’Connor started writing romantic comedies when she needed a creative outlet other than subtly rearranging the displays at a local home décor store. Her books have enjoyed bestseller status. When not writing, she’s a physician at an Urgent Care Clinic. She shares her medical knowledge in fast-paced, well-written, sexy romances — with an unexpected twist. Her favourite prescription to write? Laugh every day. Love every minute.

Social Media ~
Website https://www.lindaoconnor.net
Twitter https://twitter.com/LindaOConnor98
Facebook https://www.facebook.com/LindaOConnorAuthor
Goodreads https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/795688.Linda_O_Connor
Amazon Author Page https://www.amazon.com/Linda-OConnor/e/B00S7CNLEA

If you’re not on Facebook, then you will have missed my cover reveal for the next SEALs in Paradise: Hot SEAL, Wedding Edition story! This is the third year I and a group of fabulous authors have written stories in our connected SEALs in Paradise series. If you recall, my previous two entries were:

Cover Reveal!

On May 19th, my third story releases! Here’s the cover!
Isn’t it romantic?

But don’t worry. I haven’t gone completely soft. Here’s what the story’s really about…

A former Navy SEAL is teamed with his nemesis to provide protection for a Greek tycoon’s bridezilla daughter to make sure the bride gets safely to her destination wedding.

Of course, there will be danger, action, plenty of sexy bits shared, and humor. I can’t write a book these days that doesn’t have a bit of humor, and as much as I detest wedding stories (I know, what romance author doesn’t love to write them?), I won’t be able to resist imbuing my heroine with my wedding-allergy. However, I do promise to deliver all the feelz!

So, you know you have to get this book lined up for download, right? You don’t want to forget all about it come May 19, 2020!

So, pre-order it now!

AMZ: https://amzn.to/36Ks291
APPLE: https://books.apple.com/us/book/id1497210586
BN: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/hot-seal-decoy-bride-delilah-devlin/1136286286
KOBO: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/hot-seal-decoy-bride

Here’s the rest of the Wedding Edition stories…

While you’re ordering mine, you might also want to check out the other authors’ stories in the Wedding Edition series…

Hot SEAL, Bachelor Party by Elle James
Amazon: https://bit.ly/BPHSBPAMZ
iBooks: https://bit.ly/BPHSBPAPPLE
Nook: https://bit.ly/BPHSBPNOOK
Kobo: https://bit.ly/BPHSBPKOBO

Hot SEAL, Decoy Bride by Delilah Devlin
Amazon: https://amzn.to/36Ks291
APPLE: https://books.apple.com/us/book/id1497210586
Nook: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/hot-seal-decoy-bride-delilah-devlin/1136286286
Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/hot-seal-decoy-bride

Hot SEAL, Runaway Bride by Cat Johnson
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Hot-SEAL-Runaway-Bride-Romantic-ebook/dp/B07XB3J3QJ/
Apple: https://books.apple.com/us/book/hot-seal-runaway-bride/id1462469622
B&N: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/hot-seal-runaway-bride-cat-johnson/1132250756?ean=2940161402375
Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/hot-seal-runaway-bride

Hot SEAL, Cold Feet by Becca Jameson
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B084D76SXM/ref=dbs_a_def_rwt_bibl_vppi_i31
Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/hot-seal-cold-feet
Nook: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/hot-seal-cold-feet-becca-jameson/1136295939?ean=2940163059751
iBooks: https://books.apple.com/us/book/hot-seal-cold-feet/id1497397358

Hot SEAL, Best Man by Parker Kincade
Amazon: https://amzn.to/2uTjL5m
Apple: https://smarturl.it/HSBMAPPLE
Barnes & Noble: https://smarturl.it/HSBMBN
Kobo: https://smarturl.it/HSBMKOBO

Hot SEAL, Confirmed Bachelor by Cynthia D’Alba
Amazon: https://amzn.to/37L3U7B
KOBO: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/hot-seal-confirmed-bachelor
books2read.com: https://books2read.com/u/bpOKgk (THIS ONE LINKS TO ALL OF THEM)
B&N: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w?ean=2940163031887
Apple: https://books.apple.com/us/book/hot-seal-confirmed-bachelor/id1497356729

Hot SEAL, Taking the Plunge by Teresa Reasor
Amazon: https://amzn.to/3b0zv7i
Apple: https://apple.co/2UiSZxV
Kobo: https://bit.ly/2UgX0TR
B and N: https://bit.ly/2RPwteo

Hot SEAL, Undercover Groom by MaryAnn Jordan
Amazon: https://smarturl.it/MaJGroomSSAmazon
Apple: https://smarturl.it/MaJGroomSSApple
Kobo: https://smarturl.it/MaJGroomSSKobo
Nook: https://smarturl.it/MaJGroomSSNook

UPDATE: The winners are… Delaine McLafferty, Misty Dawn Cecil, and Elaine Swinney!
*~*~*

Besides my series, I have written some very sexy standalone stories, too! I forget about them because I’m so busy trying to keep up with series, but I shouldn’t. In fact, I should go back and look at my workplan, because I deserve to write something completely fun and one-off!

If you haven’t read the books below, now’s your time to peruse, and I’m including an excerpt from one of them so you can sample some of the fun. Several of them are menage stories, so if that’s your thing, be sure to check them out!

Contest

For a chance to win your choice of one of the books below,
tell me your weekend plans!

Click on any cover to learn more about the story!

Excerpt from Handy Men…

The impulse came like a flash of lightning—hot and searing—all the way to the bone. An idea born of a need she hadn’t felt in a long, long time…and inspired by one red-hot handyman in butt-hugging jeans and a snug T-shirt.

The man fired the militant gleam in her eyes as she brushed bronzing powder across her cheeks and swiped carmine “eat me” red lip stain across her mouth.

She didn’t give herself time to rethink the decision, reaching for the phone before her usual, cautious self reasserted control. No more couch potato cry-ins for her. No more self-imposed exclusion while she figured out what to do with the rest of her life. Today, a new Pamela Dwyer was reaching for the goddamn gusto.

The anger felt good. Especially after the shock she’d received moments ago when she’d surfed the internet for the latest gossip about her ex.

One glance at Andrew’s Facebook page, and Pamela’s confusion over what the hell had happened to her life dried up. He’d blocked her from his page, but his profile picture had been changed from Andrew’s handsome, craggy face to the soft innocence of his newborn son’s.

The picture said it all. And no doubt every one of their friends here in Austin, who’d rallied around her when he’d left, would now pour out their congratulations to him, while privately agreeing he’d done the only thing he could do to be happy.

Tears had stung her eyes, but she’d refused to let them fall. Instead, she’d blinked them away, closed out the screen and glanced through the blinds at her immaculate lawn. The perfect lawn and landscaping to surround the perfectly appointed house she’d won in the divorce settlement.

But back to that lightning strike…

Across the street, a man had stood atop a ladder while he fished leaves from old Mr. Johnson’s gutters. It wasn’t the fact the old man had spent money to hire someone to do odd jobs around his place that caught her attention, although that was plenty unusual all by itself. It was the way the sunlight glinted on the younger man’s hair. Glints of gold she could see from over thirty feet away. And once her attention was snagged by that halo-like glow, her gaze couldn’t help but trail down the long, lean, buff lines of his healthy frame.

From the back, the man was perfection. Then he’d turned to the side, no doubt to say something to Mr. Johnson who hovered at the bottom of the ladder. The old skinflint would supervise the handyman to make sure he got every nickel’s worth of his money. However, not a hint of irritation showed in the handyman’s expression. His smile had been quick—a flash of white teeth against a tanned face.

Pamela had breathed deeply, enjoying the surge of heat flowing through her veins. So much better than the cold, hollow feeling in her womb. Arousal had bloomed, fresh and unexpected, washing over her, lapping away the disappointment. Leaving her…expectant. Feeling younger than her thirty-eight years.
There were times in a woman’s life when she had to grab the bull by the horns or she’d never taste passion again. Pamela decided then and there that her time was now.

Twenty minutes later, the doorbell chimed.

Christ, do I really have the guts? She’d had twenty minutes to get icy cold feet.

She held her hand in front of her face and blew against her palm then sniffed. Mouthwash still works.

Before opening her door, Pamela bent over, shook her head then straightened, giving her straight blonde hair an extra fluff. She pasted on a smile—not too wide or eager—one she’d practiced in front of the bathroom mirror to make sure it reflected just the right amount of casual interest. She didn’t want to scare him away. At least not before she had a chance to practice being a femme fatale.

However, after opening the door, her smile faltered just a bit. Up close, the repairman was more of a rangy lion than a bull, and even more attractive than her secretive glances through the blinds had revealed. Thickly muscled arms and a broad chest stretching a green Handy Men tee filled her vision.

Maybe she should have targeted someone more in her league—and at least fifteen years older. However, when she’d seen him working on the rain gutters of her neighbor’s house and watched the way he moved gracefully up and down the ladder, a plan had begun to form. One she was too invested in to back out of now.

“Your neighbor said you were havin’ trouble with a garbage disposal?”

Good Lord, his voice was deep and sinful. Her greedy glance shot up to meet his, and she noted the crinkles of amusement at the sides of his eyes. Blue eyes with golden coronas around the pupils. Yum.

Realizing her mouth hung open, she snapped her jaw closed. “Uh, yes. Trouble with the disposal. That’s why you’re here.”

It was the truth, so she didn’t stutter over it. However, she didn’t mention she’d thrown a handful of screws into the sink to make sure the old disposal seized. Her plan to lure him into her house was working like a charm. She wished her ex could see her now. Plain Pam, reliable Pam, boring, defective Pam had a few tricks left.

“I’m Jeff McCaffrey,” he said, and held out his hand.

Blowing out a little breath to release her tension, she gave him her hand and shook. “Pamela,” she said quickly.

His palms were callused and large. She slid her hand slowly from his, enjoying the scrape. Even if things didn’t work out, she’d have plenty of sensory details to savor later to go along with the lovely picture he made.

“Um…” He lifted the toolbox with a flex of impressive biceps and raised his eyebrows.

It took a second to register that he needed her to move away from the door. Feeling flustered, she stood back and waved him inside. She closed the door behind him and followed eagerly on his heels into the hallway.

He halted abruptly.

Unable to stop her forward momentum, Pamela held out her hands to brace herself—and cupped his ass.

His head swiveled to glance back at her, a slight, dazed smile curving his mouth.

She paused a second too long before removing them, but it was his own damn fault. His ass was too much temptation for her to resist a little squeeze. “Sorry about that,” she muttered, palms and face burning. Lord, she was thirty-eight, and he had her blushing like a teenager. Her flirting skills were woefully rusty.

He cleared his throat and pointed toward the door on the left. “The kitchen?”

“Yeah,” she said, sounding a little winded, but her fingers tingled and her skin felt on fire. She hadn’t wanted to come on to the younger man like a cougar in heat, but he was fine-fine-fine.

He swung open the door and walked to the counter, where he set his toolbox beside the sink. “What sort of noises was it makin’?”

“Crunchy?”

“Crunchy?” His lips twitched.

She shrugged. He was the “Mr. Fix-It”. He’d figure out soon enough what the problem was. Maybe he’d think the screws in the disposal had gotten there by accident.

He reached beneath the cabinet next to the sink and flipped the switch.

Metallic grating made her wince. The poor thing ground worse than her ex’s teeth.

Without looking back, he said, “Don’t touch the switch. I don’t have my tongs, so I’m gonna stick my hand down there to see what’s happenin’.”

In his hand went, and he turned slightly to the side, his gaze meeting hers while a frown drew his honey-brown brows together. When he pulled free, he held a screw. “Wonder how that happened?” he drawled.

She grinned brightly. “Serendipity?”

“Wha—?”

So maybe not a brain surgeon, or even much of a reader, but the calculated stare he returned told her he wasn’t stupid. He pulled out another and laid it on the countertop, and then another. “Somethin’ you wanna tell me, Pamela?”