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?”

Those of us who have multiple pen names usually use them to differentiate one type of writing from another. For instance, I have Dee S. Knight for erotic romance, Anne Krist for non-erotic romance, and Jenna Stewart for ménage and shifter books.

When I first conceived of Anne and later, Jenna, I thought I would use them so readers could avoid confusion as to which kind of book they were picking up. I didn’t consider that writing such different kinds of books meant I would actually be using different personality traits. When a friend pointed it out to me, “What fun!” At her suggestion, I’ve played on the three, whom I’ve termed sisters.

Anne: Dee is the older sister.
Dee: Only by a few minutes. And being older makes me wiser, you know.
Anne: In your dreams, perhaps.
Jenna: I’m the baby and get all the attention, so go ahead and fight it out.
Dee: Keep quiet, Jenna. This discussion is for Anne and me.
Jenna: I’m telling!

Girls, settle down. Years ago, when I conceived Anne, I gave interviews as the two sisters and had such fun I started a blog that featured their opposing personalities, A Little Sisterly Advice, kinda like Dear Abby. Each Sunday night/Monday morning for six years I choose a question and had some fun with it, answering as each author. Anne, is usually reasonable and—

Anne: Did you hear that? She said I was reasonable.
Dee: She’s too nice to say boring.

Ladies, really! Stop sniping. As I was saying, Anne is reasonable in her answers and Dee is…well, not quite so.

Anne: *chuckling* You’re not reasonable.
Dee: *proudly* Damn straight.

*Shaking head* Anyway, I was always looking for good questions mand passed on an eBook for readers who sent one in that I used. I had to remind readers that I am not a psychologist and that my answers were strictly for entertainment. Here’s a sample of a previous question.

Q: My boyfriend of two years says he loves me and has invited me to his parents’ house for Thanksgiving dinner. On previous visits, they’ve made no secret of the fact that they hate my clothing, my hair, my job (beautician)—virtually everything about me. What should I do?
~Not Too Thankful for Dinner

Anne: Talk to your boyfriend, Not Too Thankful. He says he loves you so he should step up to the plate and defend you to his parents. I’m sure he will! And maybe this will be what they need to see the light and realize how important you are to their son. Happy holidays!

Dee: It’s Thanksgiving, so be thankful you’re about to get better advice from me than Anne just gave you. If you’re thinking of marrying this man, remember that it’s better to have a turkey of a Thanksgiving without him this year than to be served up a platter of rejection every year from now on. The fact is, they’ve made “no secret” how little you mean to them. If your boyfriend hasn’t already straightened them out about how he feels about you, your goose is cooked, girl! Get out before someone starts pelting you with cranberries.

This is what I meant when I said I took on the personas of both authors, Anne and Dee. Lord only knows what Jenna would have responded if she’d been around back then!

What do you think of authors having more than one pen name and then revealing them? Should I have kept them secret? Do you enjoy the different personalities, and would they stop you from reading a book from one of the authors? I’m curious!

Burning Bridges by Anne Krist

Letters delivered decades late send shock waves through Sara Richards’s world. Nothing is the same, especially her memories of Paul, a man to whom she’d given her heart years before. Now, sharing her secrets and mending her mistakes of the past means putting her life back together while crossing burning bridges. It will be the hardest thing Sara’s ever done.

Buy link for KU: mybook.to/BurningBridges

About the Author

A few years ago, Dee S. Knight began writing, making getting up in the morning fun. During the day, her characters killed people, fell in love, became drunk with power, or sober with responsibility. And they had sex, lots of sex. She is the primary persona of three pen names—triplets, if you will: Dee, Anne Krist, and Jenna Stewart.

As noted above, Dee S. Knight writes erotic romance—emphasis on the romance! She was part of an anthology named a Top Pick in Romantic Times magazine (Resolutions) and the sole author of another Top Pick designation, for the paranormal erotic romance, Passionate Destiny.

“Sister” Anne Krist does not write erotic romance. Her book, Burning Bridges, has received high praise and multiple 5-star reviews because of the depth of the romance and emotion. Burning Bridges is Anne’s first book but she has a series planned that she hopes to have out soon.

Third of the triplets is Jenna Stewart. Jenna has tried her hand at ménage—in both historical and shifter books. She wrote the Sisters O’Ryan series set during the westward migration in the U.S., the Great Wolves of Men-Edge, and Unlikely Bedfellows.

Regardless of the name she uses to write during the day, their dream man, childhood sweetheart, and long-time hubby are all the same guy. What happens during their nights are their secret.

For romance ranging from sweet to historical, contemporary to paranormal and more join the girls on Nomad Authors. Sign up for Dee’s newsletter with Jan Selbourne and have access to fun free reads. Also, once a month, look for Charity Sunday blog posts, where your comment can support a selected charity.

Author links:
Website: https://nomadauthors.com
Blog: https://nomadauthors.com/blog
Twitter: https://twitter.com/DeeSKnight
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/DeeSKnight2018
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/265222.Dee_S_Knight
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B079BGZNDN
Newsletter: https://landing.mailerlite.com/webforms/landing/h8t2y6
LinkedIn: https://linkedin.com/in/dee-s-knight-0500749

When you’ve been writing as long as I have, you can have a rather large backlist of books. I’ve got a huge backlist! And yet, my new converts (er, readers) have likely never heard of them.

A case in point is a trilogy I wrote and published, um, six years ago? I think. It’s when I first began toying with writing series based around military heroes. I’d done cowboys and vampires, but military heroes? I thought I’d be bored, after all, I lived that life. You know, I was a veteran… I worked with these cocky bastards. I’m over lusting after men in uniforms, right? (Never, actually. Ever.)

The series never sold well. And I knew what the issue was. I named the series after the travel agency my three heroines ran rather than putting the focus on the story. These were sexy thrillers. Couples were chased through the jungle by a drug cartel, dropped to the ocean floor in a shark cage with one tank of air, and stranded on a desert island.

So, when I was thinking maybe I needed to brush off this old series, because, hey, I loved it—action, sexiness, and humor abound—I decided to give the stories new covers, the series a new name, and to give the books another brush of editing to make them even more perfect.

So, here’s the new lineup. All pretty, sexy and flashy. Plus, I’ve placed the first book in the series, Dangerous Liaisons, on sale for just $0.99! So, if you’re looking for something to read this weekend, I have just the thing—and did I mention that the stories are very, very sexy? 🙂

Enter the Danger Zone!!

Dangerous Liaisons
On Sale for $0.99!

A pampered travel agent, roughing it at an anti-terrorist training school, escapes through the jungle with an undercover DEA agent when a drug lord mistakes her for a rival’s daughter…

After surviving a week of anti-terrorist training at a school deep in a Central American jungle, learning evasive driving techniques she’s sure will help her negotiate Chicago’s rush hour traffic, Maya Cordoba is ready to kick off the mud from her designer boots and find a Starbucks—or the closest cantina serving cosmopolitans—after she hijacks her sexy driving instructor. Instead, she finds herself staring down the barrel of an AK-47 (which she recognizes from her weapons familiarization class, thank you very much!), and being ordered in incomprehensible Spanish into a SUV. She’s being kidnapped! When she figures out she’s been mistaken for the daughter of a rival drug lord, it’s too late. If they learn she’s not who they think she is—she’s dead.

Rescue comes from ex-marine and mercenary/now driving instructor, Angel Rickman, who just so happens to be among the kidnappers. He says he’s really undercover DEA and he’ll take her out, but she has to do everything he tells her to, no balking. Together, they make a mad dash through the jungle, borrowing a cocaine-laden boat, with the drug cartel’s army on their tails every step of the way.

Get your copy here!

Mutiny’s Bounty

A former Navy SEAL races to rescue the passengers aboard a luxury yacht after it’s captured by pirates, but first, he has to rescue the woman he’s trapped with inside a shark cage on the ocean floor…

Interested only in experiencing an adrenaline-packed adventure first-hand to give her credo when she books her clients’ adventure vacations, Lace McElhannon finds more excitement than she can handle when she meets and falls into bed with ex-SEAL Dex Haygood.

Fresh from protecting transport ships from Somali pirates, Dex figures his latest job will be a cakewalk, until he finds himself in deep water, swimming with sharks and trying to protect Lace when the yacht they’re sailing on is taken.

Get your copy here!

It Takes a SEAL

A travel agent visiting friends in the Bahamas is stranded on a desert island with a sexy ex-SEAL after their private pleasure cruise is interrupted by men who mistake her lover for a reclusive billionaire.

When Susan heads to the Bahamas, she thinks the sexiest part of the trip is that she can count it as a tax deduction. After all, her agency has new offices in Miami and the Bahamas, and she needs face-time with her partners, who also just happen to be her best friends.

However, her plans for a working vacation, emphasis on work, go quickly awry when she meets ex-SEAL now security specialist, Justin Walsh. His lead-footed, fast-talking ways creep beneath her cool reserve and make her yearn for the kind of relationships her besties have with their ex-military husbands.

When his billionaire employer comes under possible threat, the ever-crafty Justin organizes an op that will kill two birds with one stone. He’ll pose as his employer aboard his luxury yacht while he woos the woman who stole his heart from the first moment he met her.

However, even best laid plans have their hiccups. When Justin and Susan are stranded on a desert island, it’s up to Justin to keep them safe while he orchestrates the ultimate seduction.

Get your copy here!

I’m happy dancing all over town because I’ve just released a romance with a Papillon on the cover. Hi this is Tara Lain. I write the Beautiful Boys of Romance, and I love all animals and Papillon dogs, in particular.

My new romance, Passions of a Papillon, is a combination romance, mystery, with a lot of humor. If you’ve ever seen a Papillon, you know why. They’re a riot.

Last year, I saw a Papillon win the agility trials at Westminster — and never stop barking the whole time she ran! Yep, they’re seriously barky, and when you tell them to stop (yell, actually) they look at you like you’ve deeply offended their purpose in life — to inform you of every buttery snail. They say the inventor of the doorbell didn’t have a Papillon.

They’re also the smartest toy dogs (mine weighs just over 8 lbs.) and are one of the top 10 smartest dogs of all sizes. My dog has an enormous vocabulary. We literally spell words, and she often recognizes those – especially c-h-i-c-k-e-n. They’re so smart they can learn any command, but only do them if they want to!

In the book, my pup escapes from some bad people who own her and adopts an originally unwilling lawyer — but she wins him over, of course. And then he takes her to the vet. Hello vet! And Passions of a Papillon is born.

You can get Passions of a Papillon on Amazon and KU: https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B083D7HF6W/

Passions of a Papillon

After you’ve sold your soul to the devil, can you renegotiate with a dog?

Brilliant defense attorney, Finn Morgenstern, knows the worst guys pay best, so defending slimeball, Rance Franklin, becomes his path to senior partner and a whole lot of benefits. But then a walk home to his pricey townhouse brings him face-to-ears with a batshit-crazy little dog who just won’t leave him alone. So Finn takes the dog to the local veterinarian to find out how to get her back to her owners. Hello vet! Emerson “Em” Fairweather sure doesn’t match his stodgy name. Tall, platinum blond, and gorgeous, Em puts the pet in pet ownership. But Em has ugly secrets and Batshit dog is up to her ears in larceny. Suddenly Finn is the one who needs defending, and he’s faced with a choice between what he thought was important and a whole new batshit-crazy life.

Contest

If you’d like to enter to Win a $10 Amazon GC hop over here and enter: https://taralain.com/released-passions-of-a-papillon-by-tara-lain-giveaway/

And thank you again to Delilah for having me. Hugs! ~TL

Does anyone else have a big family? Back in the day, everyone had more siblings than your mom remembered to count. I’ve heard those stories about kids being left in grocery stores or never picked up from school (guilty). Then the trend turned to having only a few children, and many of my friends grew up as an only child or with one sibling. I, however, am the oldest of six.

When I was in my twenties, I said no way to a big family. I wanted a couple kids, if any at all. I ended up having five and wouldn’t have shut down the factory if not for my husband (now ex) saying that was enough. I loved having babies, loved raising babies, and I adore everything about big families.

The dynamics between siblings has probably been the focus of many studies, but it only takes a mom to sit back and watch her kiddos interact to realize that they are a breed of their own. We don’t care about loud noises in this house. Was that a scream I heard? Nobody’s crying, so move on. Somebody’s practicing violin or belting out a pirate shanty song in the shower? I didn’t notice. This happens on a daily, which only proves my theory that big families are their own breed.

One of the science teachers in my kids’ high school does a study (I have no clue what the point is), but he makes everyone stand up, close their eyes and be nice and still. Then he throws a book onto the floor. Many people jump or squeal in fright at the commotion, but my kids didn’t even flinch. When this happened to the youngest child, the teacher told him that not one of the Petrovas acted as if anything had happened at all. He seemed surprised by the test, but I’m not. My kids could sleep through WWIII with all the lights on and screamo music in the background.

As a writer, I write what I know and love. For me, writing a big fat cowboy family was so natural. The Dalton Boys has been a series I have laughed and cried through along with the characters. I feel I know these rugged cowboys and sassy cowgirls like they’re my own relatives. This month, the final of the Texas Daltons has gotten her book release, and the heroine means so much to me. She’s suffered the big family messes, scrapes and victories that many of us have, even if we are part of a small family. I hope to see more of these Daltons in the future!

Are you a big family person or small? Do you like to read series with siblings? I’d love to hear from you!

Also, if you’re a lover of steamy hot romance, I’d like to see you on my Facebook page ( https://www.facebook.com/empetrovahardworkingheroes ) and if that’s your tall glass of sweet tea, JOIN ME in my members-only group, the Posse!
( https://www.facebook.com/groups/285592315251592/ )

See y’all there, and thank you for reading!

Em Petrova

About the Author

Em Petrova was raised by hippies in the wilds of Pennsylvania but told her parents at the age of four she wanted to be a gypsy when she grew up. She has a soft spot for babies, puppies and 90s Grunge music and believes in Bigfoot and aliens. She started writing at the age of twelve and prides herself on making her characters larger than life and her sex scenes hotter than hot.

She burst into the world of publishing in 2010 after having five beautiful bambinos and figuring they were old enough to get their own snacks while she pounds away at the keys. In her not-so-spare time, she is fur-mommy to a Labradoodle named Daisy Hasselhoff.

Find Em Petrova
Website: https://empetrova.com
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4342760.Em_Petrova
Amazon Author Page: https://www.amazon.com/Em-Petrova/e/B005D0EXCI
FB Fan Page: https://www.facebook.com/empetrovahardworkingheroes
Twitter: https://twitter.com/empetrova
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/em_petrova/
SUBSCRIBE: https://www.subscribepage.com/w4b4s7
Bookbub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/em-petrova

I think it’s pretty obvious that I love romance. I mean, how can a person write about romance without loving it? One of my favorite past time is curling up with a good romance novel or snuggling under a blanket while watch on television. And it’s fair to say that I love almost everything about romance. Yes, almost. There are some things that I don’t fancy—the biggest one being perpetually beautiful heroines. Now, I’m not saying that heroines can’t be beautiful, and I’m not hating on the pretty girls. And I’m certainly not saying that there is no such thing as natural beauty. However, most women I know put some effort into their appearance. No, I don’t mean facial injections, cosmetic surgeries/procedures, or slathering on layers of makeup. If a woman feels that she wants to do any of those things, it is certainly her prerogative. I’m referring to the heroine who dashes through an obstacle course of fire and water, tumbles down the side of a mountain, sprints ten miles to the nearest roadhouse in stilettos, downs half a dozen shots of premium tequila, hooks up with the local hottie for an evening of adult fun, and manages to look absolutely gorgeous the next morning with barely a hair out of place.

What is even funnier is when, in movies, the “ugly duckling” is beautiful from the beginning. Granted, it is difficult to make bombshells like Julia Roberts, Gabrielle Union, Scarlett Johansson, Ashleigh Murray, Keira Knightly, Zoe Saldana, or Megan Fox look homely or even average. However, it is not impossible. Just look how they transformed Charlize Theron in the movie Monster or Mariah Carey in Precious. One of the biggest criticisms of the film version of Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire is that Hermione Granger’s transformation for the Yule Ball is underwhelming. That was due to Emma’s Watson’s stunning beauty never being downplayed. And no, I’m not suggesting a woman should have to downplay her physical appearance. The point is, most women that I know need to take a few minutes to make themselves look presentable. They don’t roll out of bed looking like a supermodel.

When I discussed this topic with a colleague who is single, she laughed and expressed her fear of what would happen if she got married or a serious boyfriend. She said, “I don’t know how my husband is going to react to sharing a bed with a sea creature. I sleep with a seaweed mask or facial cream nearly every night. I have extremely dry skin and tons of blackheads on my nose. If I don’t follow a beauty routine nightly, my skin looks and feels horrible in the morning. And it’s not in my head, either. Since I started this routine about three years ago, I began receiving compliments on my skin, even without makeup. I’ll be waiting in a checkout line, and a stranger will comment how even my complexion appears.”

Another colleague expressed the following: “It’s difficult seeing unrealistic expectations of beauty. I have a teenage daughter who compares herself with the images she sees on social media. I try to convey to her that most of these aren’t real images because the photos have been airbrushed and retouched. But when these are the images she sees on a daily basis, it’s hard for me to get through to her. I want her to feel positive about her body image, as she is.”

Yet, another colleague said this: “I’m not high maintenance and do the bare minimum. In the mornings, I shower and brush my teeth and hair. I wear comfortable clothes that may not be stylish but are clean and unwrinkled. I wear my nails short and natural but trimmed. I wear sunscreen as a preventive health measure to avoid sun damage and lip balm to prevent my lips from cracking or chapping. I make myself presentable for my job which is very laidback. I’m content that this is my aesthetic. My sister, however, does the most. She is in an industry where fashion matters. She doesn’t go a single morning without either curling or flat ironing her hair unless she has to wear it up. Her face is always beat to the gods. I don’t see how she does it, but she does. She puts a lot of effort into looking that way. But neither of us can hop out of bed and just go to work without doing any grooming. That’s not realistic.”

Realism is an element I want to see in romance novels. This is not a knock at romantic fantasies or science fiction romances. Even in those genres, I must buy into the characters and relate to them. And sorry, I just can’t connect with a character who awakes looking like Sleeping Beauty, and I like a reject from The Walking Dead. Therefore, I write heroines who need a little work. But I don’t stop at my heroines. My heroes are conscious of their appearance—some more than others. No one in my romances gets a free pass. However, I do like getting free stuff.

Contest

The only thing better than receiving is giving, and that is what I’m doing. So, in celebration of the release of Ice Gladiators, my latest sports romance in the Locker Room Love series, I’m giving away the Moon Child Glow Kit by Anastasia Beverly Hills. I picked this palette as a giveaway because it reminds me of many of the themes in Ice Gladiators. The names of the shades include Blue Ice, Star, Purple Horseshoe, Pink Heart, Blue Moon, and Lucky Clover. To enter my giveaway, go to my Instagram page for instructions. Details of the giveaway will be uploaded soon.

Coming February 15, 2020 … Ice Gladiators

Preorder: www.books2read.com/icegladiators

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.

Enjoy sports romance and athletic bad boys? Check out my adult romance, Defending the Net. It is the second in my hockey series and guaranteed to melt the ice. It is sold at Kindle, Apple Store, Nook, Kobo, !ndigo, Angus & Robertson, and Mondadori Store. DTN is the second in my gay sports romance novel series and guaranteed to melt the ice. Order a copy now at www.books2read.com/defending. Crossing the line could cost the game.

Missed the first book 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.

Life’s Roux: Wrong Doors, my steamy romantic comedy about what could go wrong on vacation, is available at Red Sage Publishing. To order, follow the link to https://bit.ly/2CtE7Ez or to Amazon at https://amzn.to/2lCQXpt.

Copies of my romance short stories, anthologies, books, and novels are available in paper, eBook, and audio on Amazon, iTunes, Kobo, and Barnes & Noble. The links are listed on my Writing Projects page (https://bit.ly/2iDYRxU) along with descriptions of each of my stories or novels.

NEWSLETTER! Want to get the latest information and updates about my writing projects, giveaways, contests, and reveals first? Click https://genevivechambleeconnect.wordpress.com/newsletter/ and signup today.

Don’t forget to visit Creole Bayou. New posts are made on Wednesdays, where no Creole, Cajun, or Louisiana topic is left unscathed. Plus, get how-to self-help tips, how to writing tips, and keeping the romance alive and fresh suggestions. 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.

Finally, take the fear out of rush/pledging. If you or anyone you know are interested in joining a college Greek life organization, check out my special series posted each Monday for everything you wanted (and didn’t want) to know about college fraternities and sororities. In these posts, you will find information about both formal and informal recruitment for both NPC and NPHC organizations. Don’t know what NPC and NPHC are? No problem. It’s all explained in this series. This series also provides loads of information for parents who are unfamiliar with the processes, what is expected of parents, and how to be supportive. Visit Sorority Bible Table of Contents to view any or all of these posts.

UPDATE: CONTEST CLOSED! All commenters will receive the prize!
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I think it’s important to write about what you know. I’ve had a varied background, living in different locations, doing various jobs, and I’ve read many books where the author writes about something they know nothing about. It is disappointing, and draws the reader right out of the story. My best advice is—Do your homework or write what you know.

I was born in southern British Columbia and have lived most of my life here, but when I was eleven, my family moved to the North Peace River area to a place east of Fort St John, BC. We homesteaded, which means we claimed a piece of land and built a small log house on it.

The local school had two rooms, and went to grade 8, so by the time I was thirteen I was doing home schooling, but my older sister and I took turns walking our younger sister the two miles down the dirt road to the bus stop as she was attending the two-room school.

It snowed a lot. One day, I had walked my sister to the bus stop with our dog Captain as company. Captain liked to chase rabbits, and I could always tell because he yipped his way through the woods as he ran.

The road had been ploughed, so the snowbank was a good eight feet high. I got my sister onto the bus and turned to head home, calling for Captain who had disappeared partway down the road chasing rabbits. I could hear him yipping as he drew nearer and nearer, then he barreled out of the trees and up the snowbank. I called him, thinking he would come to me and accompany me on the road home, but he kept going, down the bank and across the road as fast as he could run, into the trees on the other side.

I soon realized why. Over the snowbank behind him came two timber wolves. They paused at the top of the bank, eying me on the road below.

I thought I was dead. So I raised my arms above my head and waved at them, yelling as loudly as I could as I ran toward them. They loped down the bank across the road into the trees after Captain.

What I noticed was Captain running flat out, but the timber wolves loped. They have much longer legs than a regular dog. I didn’t think I would ever see my dog again. I walked the two miles home, and Captain arrived about noon. Totally exhausted, he slept on the floor in front of the fire for the rest of the day.

This was not the first time I had seen wolves, there were lots of them up there, beautiful creatures. They hung around our house because we had animals, a cow and calf, chickens, pigs, geese and dogs. We knew they were there from the howling that could be heard most nights. But it was the closest I had been to them while alone.

I used this encounter in my book, False Confession. The rock band travels north to play for a friend’s wedding, and some of the band members encounter a wolf on their return journey.

False Confession

Did Glory fall for the wrong man, or is someone lying?

Music teacher Glory has given up on men, with good reason. Then she meets the handsome lead guitar player in the band she has just joined.

Alex, body builder and construction foreman, is determinedly single because he’s given up on women. But that’s before he meets the keyboard player who just joined his brother’s rock band. Suddenly his interest is revived and he goes on a crusade to gain Glory’s attention.

But when Alex disappears and the police claim they have a confession giving damning evidence against him, Glory must make a decision. Can she trust the man she’s fallen for, or has she been fooled into believing a lie?

Find False Confession on Amazon & Books2Read

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Author Profile

Sylvie Grayson loves to write about suspense, romance and attempted murder, in both contemporary and science fiction/fantasy. She has lived most of her life in British Columbia, Canada in spots ranging from Vancouver Island on the west coast to the North Peace River country and the Kootenays in the beautiful interior. She spent a one-year sojourn in Tokyo Japan.

She has been an English language instructor, a nightclub manager, an autoshop bookkeeper and a lawyer. Now she works part time as the owner of a small company and writes when she finds the time.

She is a wife and mother and still loves to travel, having recently completed a trip to Singapore, Thailand, Viet Nam and Hong Kong. She lives on the coast of the Pacific Ocean with her husband on a small patch of land near the sea that they call home.

Sylvie loves to hear from her readers. You can visit her at her website – www.sylviegrayson.com, find her on Facebook and Twitter, or follow her on BookBub, Goodreads, and Amazon.

Excerpt – False Confession by Sylvie Grayson

“What’s she doing here?” Alex Vecchio glared around the dim upstairs storage room, which was theirs one night a week for band practice. The bar had cases of wine and hard liquor stacked against the far wall. Barrels of beer had been lugged in and placed near the elevator. A single light bulb illuminated the space, the walls dingy with age and the floor boards bare and unpainted.

He spotted his brother’s shaggy head. “Ryan? What’s going on?” His voice was low and fierce. “What’s she doing here?”

Ryan grinned as he pulled his drums from the case. “Hey, Alex. Have you met Glory?” His sandy bangs fell forward as he motioned toward the young woman on the other side of the room. She was bent over a keyboard, unfolding the legs and snapping the braces into place.

Alex lowered his brows and kept his face turned toward his younger brother, his voice a growl. “What’s going on? Why is she here?”

“Glory!” As she straightened, Ryan waved the young woman over. “This is my brother, Alex. He plays lead.”

Alex turned toward her. “Hi,” was all he managed, his body stiff with outrage. Her smile was sunny as she beamed up at him.

“Hi, Alex. Nice to meet you.” She thrust her hand out, and he was forced to give it a reluctant shake. “I didn’t know you were his brother. What a coincidence!” She was still smiling as she turned to Ryan. “Alex lives right next door at the townhouse complex. I’ve seen him a few times when I go off to work in the morning.”

Alex filed that comment away for further scrutiny. She’d been going off to work? In that getup? At five in the morning, her hair was up in a messy pony tail. She wore purple stretch shorts and a little pink tube top. He’d thought she was leaving fresh from the new neighbour’s bed. It was how her hair was kind of all every which way that had put that thought into his head. Well, and the time of day.

He was suddenly irritated by the idea that he’d rushed to judgement without much prompting. Grunting, he slung his guitar case to the floor and went down on one knee to unsnap the buckles.

“So,” Ryan continued blithely, “Glory is going to try out with the band tonight, she’s thinking of joining us.”

Alex’s head snapped up. “Joining us?” he barked, then felt his face flush. That sounded just a touch unfriendly, even to his own ears.

“Yeah,” said Ryan. “We need a keyboard. Pete plays sometimes but his strength is in the strings. This should round us out the way I’ve imagined the band sounding. I thought we’d give it a try tonight and find a few songs to work on that we can all play.” He waved at the other band members who were busy setting up. Pete nodded distractedly at their new member as he pulled his fiddle from the case and began to tune it.

Alex looked over at Glory. She was chatting with Eddie and laughing at something he’d said. That didn’t surprise him. Eddie loved women, all women. No wonder Corrie had left him. Again.

This woman was trouble. As she moved back to her keyboard, Eddie’s dark eyes followed, focused tightly on her ass clad in a snug pair of jeans.

She positioned her bench so she could see the other band members and settled down to play a few scales.

Alex noted the skinny legs on her pants and the high heels of her strappy shoes. Nothing but trouble. He shook his head and walked over to plug in. The air resounded with strings being tuned and keys pounded. He heard the thud of Ryan’s big drum as he snapped it into place in the harness.

His brother thumped a few drum rolls and silence fell. “Guys,” he said, “I thought we’d try a few suggestions from Glory. She’s got a sheet of numbers she likes to play, and we can just follow along to see how we sound.”

Glory nodded and immediately began the intro to one of Adelle’s old songs, “Rolling in the Deep.” Alex groaned silently. Not a bunch of chick songs! He so did not want to…

But as she played and the others joined in, the song began to hang together. They worked their way to the finale and she struck a chord to finish. Then she started the song again. This time she sang. Alex watched and listened, eyes narrowed as she got to the chorus. We could have had it all, she sang, then finished with— You played it, you played it to the beat.

When they stopped, the other guys clapped enthusiastically and he saw the pink flush on her cheeks as she laughed and waved them away.

Alex didn’t clap, but suddenly he felt like it. She was good, he’d give her that. He looked over at Ryan and saw him flash a smile. Little bugger, he was always trying to put something together, something bigger, something better. He just might have done it this time.