We’re still on grandma watch here. Her respirations are slowing, and she’s only woken up a couple of times the past day or so. My sister, Elle James, and her dd arrived yesterday to provide much-needed relief. We’ll likely be holed up in grandma’s room, tending to her while we try to sprint through some pages today. Anything to keep our minds engaged elsewhere.

Do you have big things planned for today? I have a suggestion! Read the excerpt below from Baby, It’s You, and tell me you’re not tempted to find a SEAL book-boyfriend to spend your day with!

Contest

Comment for a chance to win one of my Uncharted SEALs stories!
Click on a cover to explore the series!

Baby, It’s You

Carter Vance, Jr. stands at the fork in the road. Wounded in action, the Navy SEAL has a decision to make: whether to find work with a spec ops unit, or return to his family ranch in Texas and repair his fractured relationship with his dying father and the woman he wronged. Complicating the decision is his reignited attraction to Melanie Schaeffer and his confusion over his feelings for his dead brother’s little girl, whom Melanie has raised since his brother’s and her sister’s deaths by a terrorist’s bomb.

Read an excerpt…

The morning that would change Melanie Schaeffer’s life forever began quietly enough. The whoosh of a curtain opening sounded a moment before sunlight spilled across her bed. Melanie rolled to her back to see the maid picking up clothing Melanie had left draped over a chair the night before.

A blush crept into her cheeks. She didn’t think she’d ever grow accustomed to having someone else handle her intimate items. “You don’t have to do that,” Melanie said as she pushed another pillow behind her head. “I can clean up after myself.”

The maid gave her a cheerful smile. “It’s my job. And I wouldn’t have woken you at all, but you did say you wanted to get used to the time change…”

Yes, there was that. After two days, she still felt a little muzzy-headed. The nine hours’ difference in time zones from Austin to this little city bordering Asia and the Middle East took some getting used to. Melanie rubbed her eyes and blinked, focusing on the sun peeking through the arched window and the view of the lovely, lush garden beyond it. Bushes exploding with large cabbage roses and tall, fruit-laden palms nearly obscured the ten-foot wall surrounding the estate nestled in the diplomats’ sector. Read the rest of this entry »

Take Note!

Leave me a comment. One lucky person will receive a copy of Quarterbacks Sneak, about a hot football player who knew how to celebrate Valentine’s Day.

When I first dipped my toes in writing I hadn’t a clue what I was doing. I finished my first manuscript and didn’t even know where to submit it or how. Thank the lord for SARA—San Antonio Romance Authors—where I met wonderful, lifelong friends who guided me through the bumps and bruises of the publishing world.

My first novel was contracted in 2005 under a different name, but I did not write my first erotic romance until more than a year later. If it had not been for Delilah Devlin, and my other friends at SARA, I might never have written. Why? Because Dee is the one who told me Ellora’s Cave had an open submission call for Valentine-themed Quickies—novellas 15K or less.

Well, that was certainly a challenge for me since I hadn’t a clue how to write that.  But my late husband, who thought I could do anything in the world, suggested I buy a couple, read them and see if I felt I could do it. Well, I was never one to shrink from a challenge, so that’s what I did. And my first erotic romance was born.  Imagine my shock when I received a contract for it!

But Ellora’s Cave began its slide into oblivion, and I was able to get the rights back for it. Celebrate!

And so February 13 Totally Bound will rerelease Cupid’s Shaft and I can’t wait. It ‘s a hot, fun story to keep you warm on Valentine’s Day. And what better place to tell you about it than here. On the blog, of the fabulous author who started it all for me.

A freezing winter’s night, a hot stranger and a sexy female with erotic plans. One hot Valentine’s Day coming right up.

When Jessie Rawlins’ boyfriend dumps her just before Valentine’s Day, she ends up by herself at her isolated cabin in Maine with all the trappings for the holiday—including a bag of kinky toys—and no one to celebrate with. Then a snow storm dumps gorgeous Riley Malone on her front porch. Running from a broken relationship himself as well as a business partnership gone bad, Riley thought his good luck had run out. Until fate—and Cupid—strands him at Jessie’s cabin.

What woman hasn’t fantasized about having a sexy, handsome stranger come out of nowhere and rock her world? When Riley shows up on her doorstep, frozen half to death, Jessie knows exactly how to warm him up. But will Riley want to play along with the games she’d planned for her Valentine’s celebration? A night of hot, erotic, sizzling sex answers that question. But what will happen when the day for lovers is over, the storm is gone and it’s time for him to be on his way? Will he take a piece of Jessie’s heart with him, or will Cupid’s arrow strike them both?

Excerpt:

Riley Malone thought for sure he was having a heart attack. For one thing, he should be back in Florida where it was warm, not up here in the godforsaken wilds of Maine. But the fight with his business partner in the hotel in Boston had been the final straw in a rapidly disintegrating relationship. He’d offered to sell out his share and Curt had jumped at it. Good riddance. He could start another construction company. Building was going on in all fifty states.

Then, of course, there was Veronica the bitch. Too bad that she bought tickets for a Valentine cruise without telling him. When he told her he couldn’t get back in time to make it, she blistered the telephone line with a string of curses that would have made a longshoreman blush and hung up on him. Okay. Good riddance to her, too. He was tired of her selfish whining and demanding. And it would have been nice if just once in bed she’d asked him what he wanted. Veronica definitely was focused on her own pleasure, on her own terms, at times barely tolerating some of the things he wanted to do.

So he got in the damn SUV he’d rented at the airport and started driving. Just heading north. He had no idea how he even got where he was. And then the damn truck broke down in the middle of the damn snowstorm. Hiking to the only light he could see about killed him and the last thing he expected to see was a naked woman—a mouthwatering naked woman, with a slick, hairless pussy—pleasuring herself in front of a mirror.

He banged on the window again. If she didn’t open the door pretty soon, he’d freeze his damn balls off and then it wouldn’t matter who he went to bed with.

He watched her pull on a robe—too bad, she was an eyeful—and then pick up the fireplace poker. Jesus, was she going to brain him with it? As she walked slowly toward the door he stamped his feet and banged his hands together to stimulate circulation.

Finally the door creaked open and she eyed him through a narrow opening.

“What do you want?”

“For one thing I want to get out of this damn snowstorm before I turn into an ice statue. I promise not to rape or kill you if you just let me go stand in front of the fireplace.”

She frowned at him.

Come on, lady. Don’t take all day to make up your mind.

“A-All right. You can come in.” She opened the door wide enough for him to step inside.

“Thank you.” His throat felt frozen. “You’re an angel of mercy.” He pushed past her and planted himself immediately in front of the fireplace. Pulling off his jacket and gloves, he held his hands out to the warmth. “God, I was beginning to think I’d never get warm again.”

“What are you doing in this storm?” She kept her distance, still holding the poker.

“That’s a long, unpleasant story, which I won’t bore you with.”

“You have to be out of your mind to go out driving in weather like this, Mr…Mr…”

“Riley Morgan.” He glanced at her over his shoulder. “And I swear you can put the poker down. I’m too cold to do anything but shiver.”

Buy Links:
https://www.amazon.com/Cupids-Shaft-Desiree-Holt-ebook/dp/B078SJTW45/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1515692555&sr=1-1&keywords=Cupid%27s+shaft

https://www.totallybound.com/index.php?route=product/product&product_id=68739

https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/cupid-s-shaft-2

https://www.firstforromance.com/book/cupids-shaft

https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/cupids-shaft-desiree-holt/1021797459?ean=9781786864178

You can find me a lot of places and I love to visit with my readers:

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Hey there Delilah!

Thanks for the chance to appear on your super blog where today I’m talking about

Authors Telling Tales and Characters Making Decisions

Authors are always asked how they get the ideas for their books and like most writers, for me it’s a combination of elements.

When it comes to plot twists and sexy scenes I let my imagination go into free fall and let fantasy take over.

Sometimes a random overheard conversation is gold and my mind races with what ifs and a story pops out of nowhere.

And ever since I was a kid, my vivid dreams and nightmares carry pieces of ideas and feelings that morph into a person caught at the center of an overwhelming crisis.

The idea for A Model Engagement came from a bunch of whys and what ifs in my head as I watched the TV news one night. Yeah I know, TV news- dangerous thing to do, right?

 It was a sexual assault case, involving a powerful, famous, beloved man in media with a sterling reputation accused of sexual misconduct by an unpowerful woman—a relative nobody, well before #metoo and #timesup.

I kept thinking- why don’t people believe her? That thought sparked ideas about why and how this situation could happen and A Model Engagement was born.

 In A Model Engagement, Lacey is an ex-model with a tabloid past. She keeps her sexual assault secret to protect a loved one. Then she realizes she must speak up to have any hope of making the predator pay for his crime and any chance of regaining her piece of mind.

Lacey doesn’t think she’s strong; she blames herself for her predicament, and judges herself harshly for her naiveté. Somehow she finds a courage she didn’t know she had, tells her secret to her best friend, (Sabrina from The Marriage Ultimatum) and fights back.

Where is the romance you say? In the midst this crisis, Lacey meets Connor and man does he fall hard. Connor is used to jumping in and solving everyone’s problems but he’ll do anything to be the man Lacey chooses. And Lacey learns to accept the love of a strong, swoony, teddy bear of a man while reclaiming herself.

There are no graphic scenes of sexual assault in this book.

EXCERPT:

Lacey needed to get it out before she lost her courage. “I’m happy for you, Sabrina, I really am. And I’m not trying to cut you off. It’s just, I’ve got something to say to you, and if I don’t do it real fast, I may lose my nerve.” And my dinner.

“Yeah, of course, Lacey, sure.”

Lacey cleared her throat. “Ok, I’m just going to say it because I don’t know how else to do this. Several months ago I was given a date rape drug and then I was filmed in some sort of, I don’t know, porno, and now I’m paying blackmail.” There she said it. It was sordid, it was horrible and it sounded even worse out loud than it had in her head but she’d finally told another person.

“Wh—at? What! Oh no, Lacey. Oh my God. How did this happen? Who would do such a thing…?”

It was so dark outside that Lacey could see her face reflected in the window. How weird—she didn’t look any different. Outside, beyond the window, beyond the house, nothing was visible. She couldn’t see anything but she could hear the tide beating against the rocks at the bottom of the sandy grass before retreating, then coming back to do it again. The tide grew louder until it roared in her ears like her own blood. She swayed and had to sit on the floor before she fainted. Sabrina was yelling, cursing a blue streak in her ear—who, what, when, where, why.

In contrast, Lacey’s voice when she interrupted her friend’s tirade was unnaturally calm. “Okay, here it is. Remember that photographer who said I was the front runner to be the face for that big Mon Secret campaign?”

“You mean Barry Bixby?”


“You remember.”


“Duh, of course I do. He’s the guy in fashion photography. Since I’ve gotten more into photography, I’ve become more aware of his work. Are you saying he did this? He’s so, so highly…”

“Yeah, highly regarded in the industry. I know.” Lacey put a fist under her chin, pressed her lips together but a small sound escaped.

“Not okay, you’re crying, all right sweetie, don’t make a move,” Sabrina said, “I’m coming over there right now.”

Enter my rafflecopter for a chance to win a signed paperback copy of

A Model Engagement.  Thanks for reading.

Here’s the contest link: a Rafflecopter giveaway

A Model Engagement by Charlotte O’Shay

Lacey Reed jumps at the chance for independence with a career in the big city. But her naivety and ambition blind her to the lure of a blackmailer.

With her savings gone she has nowhere to turn when she literally runs into financier Connor Devlin.

Though dazzled by Lacey, Connor sees the desperation she tries to hide. He hires her as his fake fiancée. Now Lacey has a job and he has a bandage for a family crisis.

When the blackmailer ups the ante, Lacey resolves to face him down— no matter what the consequences.

Does that mean Lacey will lose the only man who’s ever seen who she truly is?

Buy Links:

Amazon: https://amazon.com/dp/B074DPCV76/
Nook: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/a-model-engagement-charlotte-oshay/1126899607?ean=2940158616327&st=PLA&sid=NOK_DRS_NOOK+EBooks_00000000&2sid=Google_&sourceId=PLGoP75008
The Wild Rose Press: https://catalog.thewildrosepress.com/all-titles/5260-a-model-engagement.html
Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/a-model-engagement
iBook: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/a-model-engagement/id1267055968?mt=11

About the Author

Charlotte O’Shay was born into a big family and married into another big family.

The drama! The noise! The inspiration!

Negotiating skills honed at the dinner table led her to a career in law. After four beautiful children joined the crowded family tree, Charlotte traded her legal career to write about happily ever afters. She lives on the far westside only 3 subway stops from where she grew up.

When Charlotte isn’t reading or writing steamy contemporaries featuring heroines in crisis and swoony heroes with issues, she’s on the hunt for that perfect pair of sunglasses.

She LOVES to hear from readers.

Sign up to my newsletter to find out about giveaways and new releases: https://eepurl.com/b4lbvn

Web: charlotteoshayauthor.com
Twitter @charlotte_oshay https://twitter.com/charlotte_oshay
Instagram (charlotte_oshay_author)
Facebook (Authorcharlotteoshay)

The City of Dreams series are standalone books linked by the wedding in The Marriage Ultimatum.
Book 1, The Marriage Ultimatum ~ Sabrina & Vlad
Book 2, A Model Engagement ~ Lacey & Connor
Book 3, Their Short Term Affair ~ Honey & Jake
Facebook:  https://facebook.com/charlotteoshayauthor

Many thanks to Delilah for having me today!

Now. I’d like to discuss the VERY important topic of why I cannot get The Mountain Between Us out of my head, in spite of the many negative reviews. (CAUTION: SPOILERS AHEAD)

Is it because Idris Elba takes his shirt off? Partly. Really though, it’s the cabin. The cabin where these two frozen and bedraggled people stumble in, finally get a break from fighting life or death circumstances, and the bow-chicka-wow-wows ensue.

I am a total sucker for the stranded in a cabin story. Or the stranded on an island story, or the riding out a storm in a barn story, or… you get the idea. Put two people who wouldn’t otherwise be together into a situation they can only get out of with the aid of falling in love and smexy naked times, make it even a little believable, and I’m there.

As I sit here thinking about it, honestly any good trope that is well-executed (or well subverted), will get my motor humming. Enemies to lovers? Oh, yeah. Workplace romance? Forbidden circumstances? Secret baby? Yes, even the secret baby stories. Make me love it, and I’m yours.

I’m such a sucker for the tropes, that I’ve realized I squeeze as many as I can into each book, often without really trying. They’re just so delicious, I can’t stay away. For me, if one trope is the cake (which, I mean, who doesn’t love cake??), then two are the frosting, three are the sprinkles, and the more sprinkles the merrier.

Now I’m hungry. Anyone else dying for cake now?

In my upcoming book, DON’T LET GO, I’ve managed all sorts of many-layered goodness. I couldn’t be more excited. There’s an alpha male (two, actually), an emotional love-hate situation, a fake relationship, a fling, a touch of class warfare, a playboy, a protector, a run at revenge, a super-delicious May-December kind of thing, and IMO the best? A road trip, during which they become temporarily stranded (YESSS!!!).

Quite a lot of sprinkles on that cake, and I hope you’ll enjoy digging in.

So tell me: What are your favorite cak—Uh, topping—Uh, tropes?  Ok seriously, I gotta go bake a cake now, people.

About DON’T LET GO

(find it at: Amazon | B&N| iBooks | Kobo | Goodreads)

Left behind by everyone he’s ever loved, Alonzo Grover lives as if he’s got no tomorrow. The discovery of a letter from his deceased boyfriend breaks him out of his rut and spurs him to right an old wrong, but the local stick-in-the-mud sheriff’s lieutenant seems determined to ruin his plans.

Lieutenant Sebastian Haas despises tangling with his small town’s most promiscuous party kid. Alonzo’s youth and recklessness drive him crazy in more ways than one… So does the uncomfortable secret they share. But when Haas’s estranged family arrives in town to throw a wedding he wants no part of, he jumps into Alonzo’s car to avoid the family drama.

Together, they wind up on an unexpected road trip. With one setback after another, it looks like they might kill each other before they make it home to Evergreen Grove. That is, unless they find something better to do than fight.

Go get it: Amazon | B&N| iBooks | Kobo | Goodreads

Mini Excerpt:

I’m about to turn and leave when the door slams in against the wall and I find Sebastian Haas, local sheriff’s lieutenant and town hard-ass, giving me the stare down. His blue eyes glitter with the help of the bar’s twinkly fairy lights, serving me a look that’s half “Don’t fuck with me” and half “Can U Handle It?”

“Mr. Grover. Staying out of trouble this evening?”

Everything about this guy pushes my buttons. Can’t stand his perfect cop face. Can’t stand the way he pulls off the world’s ugliest green uniform thanks to a jaw that could crush rocks and a body with no signs of a donut fetish. This guy is the biggest fake goody-goody I’ve met. And I’ve met a lot of fake people in my time. The system is full of liars, let me tell you.

“Maybe you’ll want to help me get into some trouble. Eh, Lieutenant Haas?”

Yeah, I know. You’re supposed to be respectful around law enforcement. My buddy Tyler warns me all the time about the consequences of my attitude, even though I learned that lesson when I was eight. But there’s something about Lieutenant Haas.

He brings out all my ugly, as my old friend, Ruthie, would have said.

Sometimes it’s just the way he stares. He seems out of place in this little town, looking like the product of a science experiment where Channing Tatum and Matt Bomer got smashed together into one person. Then that person put on a cop uniform that fits extra tight through the backside. And then acts so uptight, he could blow diamonds from his asshole.

For real, how can a man so hot be such a bucket of cold water?

You really want it now, don’t you?  Amazon | B&N| iBooks | Kobo | Goodreads

About Elisabeth Staab

Elisabeth Staab used to be the kid who loved getting grounded because there were mystery novels in her bedroom. One day reading romances saved her life, and now she writes them, because the world needs more happy endings. Keep in touch by signing up for her newsletter, or stopping by ElisabethStaab.com.

My first experience with steak pies came in the spring of 2009. My best friend from college informed me that she was leaving Auckland after a two-year stint with her partner, so I decided I’d better get there before I lost the free room and local tour guide. For those of you who’ve read The Officer’s Siren, this might sound familiar. For the purposes of this post, I’ll call her Emily (like I did in the book). Emily took me to the grocery store after my jetlag wore off, and I found a huge selection of these wonderful meat pies. Now I love cheese, and I really love meat and gravy, so the combination of both in a pastry shell had my mouth watering before I even got to the checkout stand. They didn’t disappoint! My favorite by a mile was the steak and brie pies. Australian meat pies have the meat ground, but New Zealand Pies are chunks of steak. I’ve had both, but prefer by a mile the Kiwi (New Zealander) pies. I’d definitely brave the 13-hour flight to have these again.

After returning to Seattle, I didn’t find a source for these wonderful treats until another writing friend, Maia Strong (seriously, check out her stuff – she’s awesome), took me to Pies and Pints on Sixty-Fifth Avenue NE in the Ravenna neighborhood of Seattle. Although they had the Aussie version of the meat pies, I loved the place so much, I sent my guys there in both The Officer’s Siren and in the second novel of the Rain City Tales, Past Secrets Present Danger. Sadly, after 13 years, Pies and Pints in Seattle closed in 2017, but the wonderful space, and the yummy meat pies, live on as our guys’ go-to place after work for pool, pies, and tater tots!

The second installment of the Rain City Tales, Past Secrets Present Danger, is now available for download on Amazon and Kobo today! Past Secrets Present Danger follows accountant Roger Matthews navigating his partner, SPD Officer Paul Tomlinson’s, secrets and past when he lands in the hospital after a shooting. Stay tuned for Rain City Tales Book 3: I’m Yours due out before Valentine’s Day, and Rain City Tales Book 4: The Wedding Weekend, out in May 2018.

****

You can order the first Rain City Tales story, The Officer’s Siren, here.
Checkout Brent’s website for more details on upcoming books.

Excerpt from Past Secrets Present Danger:

The pub teemed with people as they stepped inside, and Roger thought the restaurant seemed overly crowded for a mid-week evening. Paul navigated his way through the sea of chairs, holding Roger’s hand and steering him to a small table not far from the pool table, where Fred Collier waved his arms in animated conversation with Alex and Sarah Templeton.

“Not sitting at the bar this evening, gents?” The bartender, Seb, approached the table with two coasters and tossed the disks onto the table top.

Paul grinned. “No room. How’s married life treating you?”

“I think your buxom Italian wife disappointed all the women and over half the men in this place when she caught you,” Roger joined in.

Seb laughed. “Emily’s amazing. I’m still marveling at how awesome she is.” He leaned in. “Although, just between the three of us, I could do without the jogging outfits she comes up with. Love is blind, though, eh?”

As Seb moved to another table, Fred hurried over. “Paul, good that you’re here. Alex and Sarah challenged me to a game, and I need my partner.”

Eyeing his co-worker, Paul crossed his arms. “What’s the matter?” he asked, his tone wry. “Your pool-shark buddy, Mike, not available?”

Fred’s eyes widened. “It was just that one time, I swear. You were out of town, and I was in a bind.”

“That’s not what Sarah said,” Roger piped up. He loved joining in the teasing interplay between Paul and his boss, and loved even more the fact Paul’s friends and fellow officers had accepted him so readily into their circle. “She told me you constantly beg Mike to come play.”

Paul shifted his gaze from Roger to Fred. “Is this true?” he asked with exaggerated dismay and indignation.

Swinging his gaze toward Sarah and Alex, Fred glared at the couple. The Templetons exchanged glances and shrugged while smothering smiles.

Officer Jason Lynch and his husband Mike Bryant wove their way to Roger and Paul’s table.

Mike’s goofy smile lit up his face. “Did someone mention my name?”

Stifling a laugh, Roger sat back and watched the officers bicker about who was entitled to play and how often Mike was cutting in on Paul’s gig. Seb bustled over and planted his hands on his hips.

“All right, boys. If you don’t cool it,” he said, winking at Roger, “I’ll have to call the cops.”

The room filled with the roar of laughter from the three officers. Jason and Mike took the two extra seats at the table, and Roger handed his menu over to the pair.

“I’m ready to order, Seb,” Roger said.

Seb pulled his pad from his apron. “Shoot.”

“The steak and cheddar pie with a mound of tater tots.” He glanced at the beer list. “And…a bottle of Roger’s Pilsner.”

Mike chuckled next to Roger. “I’ll have the same, except I want a ginger beer.”

Seb nodded. “Paul?”

As his boyfriend and Jason ordered, Roger cast Fred a bemused grin. The poor guy was desperate for Paul to go shoot a game of pool with the Templetons, and Paul was purposefully taking his time, being indecisive about his food and drink order.

When Seb finally left the table, Fred plunked down between Paul and Jason. “Seriously, are you going to help me out, Paul?” He glanced across the table at Mike. “I’m sure there’s someone else here who’d play if you don’t want to.”

Paul leaned toward Roger. “What do you think, babe?”

“Let Mike play.” Roger grinned. “The game’ll be over in about five minutes.”

Another roar of laughter erupted from the table, although this time Fred didn’t join in. He looked like a spoiled child whose favorite toy had been stolen away.

Taking pity on him, Roger turned to Fred. “Just kidding. Go shoot one game.” Roger raised his index finger and waved it in front of Paul. “One game. You have commitments after we’re done eating.”

Heat burned through the look Paul shot him as he pushed himself to his feet. “Okay, Fred. You heard the boss. One game.”

“Commitments?” Jason looked between them.

Mike chuckled and reached his hand under the table. “Commitments.”

Eyes widening, Jason stared at his husband. “Oh. Commitments.”

About the Author

Brent Archer began writing in 2011 at the nudging of his cousins (ahem, Elle James and Delilah Devlin). His first story sold, and he was hooked! Keep up with Brent Archer and his current releases at his website, and follow him on Twitter: @brentarcherwrit.

First off, a big thank-you to Delilah for hosting me here on her blog!

So here we are in January of a brand new year. Can you believe it’s 2018? I don’t make formal resolutions for myself anymore (ugh! too much pressure!), but I do like to look at the new year for a chance to reboot my daily routines and take a look at how I can become a better writer.

One of my goals this year? To interact more with YOU, my readers. I read an article in the New York Times last fall that really stuck with me. It talked about how people need social interaction, and social support networks, to be both physically and mentally healthy. Among the statistics they cited? People who’d suffered a heart attack had only a quarter the risk of death in the next 3 years if they had a strong support network, as opposed to those without one. In general, people who are socially isolated have a higher risk for stress and inflammation, which in turn can lead to mortality risk factors like high blood pressure, a weaker immune system, and coronary heart disease.

Scary stuff, right?

And yet so many of us walk around attached to our phones, or sit in our living rooms focused on our tablets, and we forget to look up, to have a conversation with those around us, to talk and listen and engage in a very human, one-to-one way.

So my goal this year is to be more present and more engaged with the people in my life. I can’t always do that in-person with my readers, but I can chat with them online and in social media groups and I can develop relationships with them both because of, and outside of, the books I write.

All this is a very long way of inviting you to be part of my journey this year in building better relationships with my readers! Two ways I have already started:

I am resurrecting my blog, and each week I’ll put up a post that will feature a giveaway. I hope you’ll stop by, visit, leave a comment, and throw in your chance to win whatever prize I’m giving away that week.

I am also writing 4 short stories exclusively for my newsletter subscribers. These stories will be free, and they’re my way of thanking my loyal readers and followers for supporting me on my writing journey. The first story, “Look Up, Angel,” released last week, so if you’re interested in reading it, you can subscribe to my newsletter for all the details: https://eepurl.com/9TO79

Enjoy this excerpt, and then if you’d like, drop by my blog to check out this week’s giveaway. I hope you’ll become a regular there, or on my Facebook page, or simply drop in every now and then to see what I’ve been up to. In the meantime, Happy New Year! Have a wonderful 2018!

Look Up, Angel

Sometimes love is waiting for us in the places we least expect it. All we have to do is look up…

“You’re kidding.” Angela skirted a mom pushing a double baby stroller and darted across 42nd Street before the light turned red. A cab missed her by a quarter inch, hit a puddle, and splashed dirty water all over her ankles. Fabulous. She pressed her cell phone to her cheek. “Is this guy even qualified to be your cameraman?”

“He’s got some experience,” her best friend Sophie said. “At a local cable station, but at least it’s something.”

Angela glanced over her shoulder and crossed 9th Avenue. “Soph, this is one of the biggest shows of your career. And you’re letting a hometown boy who’s got — what? Two or three hours behind the camera? You’re letting him shoot it? I can’t believe Lon isn’t freaking out about it.” The producer of Sophie’s travel show freaked out about everything.

“Not like I have much choice. I’m in the middle of nowhere. This town doesn’t even have a decent coffee shop.”

Horns blared around Angela. People rushed by in an effort to get home. The marquees, the storefronts, the traffic itself, lit up Times Square. She passed three coffee shops in the time it took Sophie to complain about the lack of one in Lindsey Point. She’d never lived anywhere but Brooklyn, as a child, and now Manhattan, as a journalist fresh out of grad school. She couldn’t imagine a place without espresso and parking garages and twenty-four hour take-out.

“Well, you’re not there for too long, right?” she said.

“I’m not sure. It’s a heck of a good story, I’ll tell you that much. I might be here a couple of weeks.”

Angela turned a corner, then another, and stopped in front of her favorite Italian restaurant. She rarely cooked, and at almost nine o’clock, her empty stomach reminded her that it had no patience for her attempts to. “Listen, I’ll call you later. I’m picking up dinner.”

“This late?”

Angela frowned at her phone. “It’s not even nine.”

Sophie laughed. “Sorry. It’s just that this town closes up after seven on a weeknight. I’ve been eating dinner at six.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Nope.” Sophie paused for a minute. “Call me later, yeah. I want to tell you more about my new cameraman.”

Forty minutes later, Angela arrived at her apartment house in the neighborhood of Chelsea. The building was tiny, but it had a doorman and an exquisite view, if she craned her neck and peered out one window at just the right angle. Plus she could afford it on her salary, without a roommate.

“Angel,” Mario greeted her. He pushed open the door, tipped his cap, and waited until she was safely inside before securing the door behind her.

She smiled. Her doorman was the only person who’d ever called her Angel, instead of her given name, Angela. She thought maybe it was a nickname in the place he came from, not like she knew where that was, but she guessed maybe the Dominican Republic, from his accent. He had light brown skin and a near-perfect smile.

“Coffee tonight?” He held out a paper cup from the shop around the corner.

“You’re so sweet. Thank you.” He’d started the tradition sometime last year, soon after taking the job. She didn’t know if he gave free coffee to everyone in the building, because she kept crazy hours and didn’t see most of her neighbors, but she imagined it was a perk that came with living in a nice place like this one…

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A few years ago, my granddaughter self-published two novels on Amazon, at the age of fourteen. I was impressed with this and decided to try writing a novel myself, after all they do say everyone has a book in them. I thought that at the very least it would be a good mental exercise for my then sixty-nine-year-old brain. How much exercise I could never have imagined.

I believed the younger generation thought most people over the age of sixty had one foot in the grave, and were just killing time until the grim reaper claimed them. But, I knew that wasn’t the case for many people, so I looked for a way to write something to show them in a positive light.

I got the idea to write a romance, with the hero and heroine being over sixty. And, I came up with the idea of my characters being residents at a retirement village that was pretty much a private 5* hotel. There was a lot of scope for activities and relationships and I was sure the idea would work.

Unfortunately, I had virtually no previous writing experience or training and no idea about planning, outlining, plotting etc. So, the book started off as a series of conversations, and developed slowly from there. Sadly, my inexperience meant that a lot of what I wrote wasn’t very good, and I had to throw away a lot of material as the book developed and the story just didn’t work properly. This meant the book took a lot longer than I had initially expected it to.

I submitted a sample chapter to a publisher to see if it fitted with the sort of work they publish, and it did. After a year of rewriting and polishing the manuscript I submitted it and ten months ago I won a publishing contract. Now, at the age of seventy-three, my debut novel, Grace’s Turmoil has been published today as Book One of a series called Not Too Old for Love.

It seems that over recent years more and more readers of romance have become frustrated that all the heroines they read about were aged about twenty, whilst they were on average at least ten years older. Now it seems that there are a growing number of authors writing for this new market, which seems to be being referred to as Seasoned Romance, Second Chance Romance, and the like. I’m proud to be a part of that growing band of authors trying to respond to this demand.

Grace’s Turmoil

Divorced and emotionally damaged, artist Grace Stollery wants nothing more than to spend her semi-retirement painting and let time heal her emotional scars.

But when dashing widower Alfred Nobel moves into her retirement village he turns her life upside down and her heart inside out by awakening feelings she wants to keep dormant.

Alfred quickly sets out to woo Grace and slowly she warms to him. But the village’s resident femme fatale wants him for herself. Will she succeed in driving a wedge between Alfred and Grace?

Get your copy here!

Excerpt

Grace jabbed at the volume button on the remote control, turning up the sound on the television. She was trying to drown out the chatter which filled the palatial residents’ lounge. It had been like that for days, and she’d grown tired of it. Who would have thought the imminent arrival of one man could affect mature ladies like that?

One of the things which had appealed to her when she moved to The Grange retirement village was the lack of men. Yet a man who aroused feelings in her she didn’t want was going to add to their number.

Grace had caught a glimpse of him across The Lounge a few months ago, taking the standard tour of The Grange. He’d towered over the young woman he’d been with, and she’d guessed he was at least six-foot-five. Built like a tank, with a mass of wavy white hair and a snow-white beard, he’d reminded her of a polar bear. His presence had been overpowering and almost menacing. An image of him defending a seventeenth century mansion in days gone by had jumped into her mind.

Looking at him had sent a spontaneous burst of attraction rippling through her. It had caught her by surprise. Becoming attracted to anybody was the last thing she’d needed right then. Her divorce had been too recent and too painful. All she wanted was to focus on her painting to block out the pain. Although she hadn’t come there to look for a man, there was no denying how she’d reacted to the sight of him. She wondered how she would cope when they met. And she couldn’t help feeling he was going to have quite an impact on her life. Whether it would be a good impact or not was the million-dollar question. He might be the greatest thing since sliced bread! Or he could turn out to be a snake in the grass like her ex-husband.

About the Author

Peter Perrin writes sweet, seasoned romances involving larger-than-life mature characters who will make you rethink your views on older people in a positive way. His characters are mature in age but not necessarily in their behaviour. They may not be in the first flush of youth but that doesn’t stop some of them acting like hormonal teenagers.

Peter was born in Romford, in the county of Essex, near London, England. For nearly twenty years he has lived with his wife of almost forty years in a quiet suburb of Swindon, in the county of Wiltshire, in England. He is a father and grandfather.

He is a former member of The Royal Air Force who has served in the UK, and in Madagascar, Singapore, and Saudi Arabia. He was also stationed for two years in Aden—which nowadays is part of Yemen.

After almost fifteen-years’ service in The Royal Air Force Peter worked in Engineering, Quality Control, and Procurement Management, not to mention myriad smaller jobs in between those careers.

Now retired Peter’s interests are Writing, Carp Fishing, and (despite being in his early seventies) PC and PlayStation games.

His favourite quote is “Youth passes, but with luck, immaturity can last a lifetime.”

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