UPDATE: The winner is…Jennifer Beyer!
*~*~*

I’m making the finishing touches on Quincy before I upload the book tomorrow for its release next Tuesday! There’s nothing like waiting until the last minute, right? I can’t wait for you to read the rest of the story about Quincy and his beautician-in-the-bunker—the couple I introduced you to in the short story, “Quincy Down Under“! In the newest Montana Bounty Hunters installment, you’ll see all the characters you’ve loved along the way. We’re nearing the end of the stories in this series. I think I only have one more to write, and if you’ve been reading the stories, you know which wonderful man hasn’t yet found his true love. I’m hoping to have that story ready for you before the end of this year! In the meantime, catch up on the series and get ready enjoy Quincy and Tamara’s great adventure. A warning though, it’s very, very sexy. 🙂

If you haven’t already pre-ordered your copy of Quincy’s story, here’s the link: Quincy.

Enjoy reading an excerpt from another story in the series, Hook. I loved, loved, loved writing his story! He lost his arm in an explosion, and has been having a hard time adjusting to his new “normal”. But then he gets assigned to protect a woman with even bigger problems than his own…

Hook

Former Army Ranger, Dylan “Hook” Hoecker, has a new job along with a new prosthetic arm. Being a bounty hunter is the closest career field he could find as a civilian that gives him the adrenaline rush that is his addiction. So, when his first solo assignment is to keep an eye on a flight risk the boss bonded out of jail, he’s not thrilled. However, he soon discovers a fresh addiction–one mouthy, nerdy redhead, who resists his attempts to keep her out of trouble.

Felicity Gronkowski is grateful for the bone the head of Montana Bounty Hunter threw her. She didn’t have the money to pay for bail, but he has a soft spot for former military, and she bartered to install a new computer system in his satellite office in Bear Lodge. Being on the outside of jail was her first imperative because she has to figure out who framed her for a series of high-end robberies while she worked installing home security systems. However, her bounty-hunting babysitter isn’t giving her any slack. Every time she thinks she’s given him the slip, he’s one step ahead of her. Either she has to find the perfect method of distraction to escape him or she has to enlist his help to clear her name.

Contest

Comment below for a chance to win a copy of one of the MBH books shown below!

Are you all caught up with the bounty hunters?
Here’s what’s available so far (until next Tuesday)!

MONTANA BOUNTY HUNTERS
Authentic Men… Real Adventures…
Reaper: https://amzn.to/2NztLpv
Dagger: https://amzn.to/2zo6Dav
Reaper’s Ride: https://amzn.to/2KKkisI
Cochise: https://amzn.to/2zq4avV
Hook: https://amzn.to/2UrpyYh
Wolf: https://amzn.to/2yUTjr5
Animal: https://amzn.to/2H4Roob
Big Sky Wedding: https://amzn.to/33GprwK

Excerpt from Hook

Dylan “Hook” Hoecker had no problem keeping pace with Dagger and Cochise as they raced along the dark alleyway, following the skip they’d tracked to a gun shop in Libby. Scooter James had made the crew the moment Dagger entered the premise. Perhaps it was Dagger’s burly physique that had tipped him off, or maybe he was just nervous having three intense-looking dudes enter the store, but he’d run for the back exit.

No, Hook’s legs had never been an issue. He ran like the wind, easily leaping over a barrel Scooter dumped on its side, hoping to trip them. Beside him, Dagger cursed, and Hook couldn’t help smiling as the big guy went down. This skip was his. When he reached the end of the alley, Scooter veered left and ran through a stand of motorcycles, tipping over one, which sent the rest slowly falling like dominoes. Bikers sitting at outdoor café tables nearby rose and filled the street, shouting and moving toward their Harleys, forcing Cochise and Hook to push past them.

Cochise went down when one biker stuck out a foot, perhaps angry that their chase had scratched his ride.

Hook waved his prosthetic arm, which, sometimes, had even those who weren’t so tight with the law pausing and giving him a break. He didn’t mind one bit using his disability to give him an advantage. He shouted out a “Thanks, man,” when one biker rolled his bike forward to clear his path.

Now, it was just him following the slap of Scooter’s Adidas on the pavement. Hook paced himself, forcing himself to keep his breathing even so he’d outlast his target. He didn’t use every bit of his strength to close the gap, because he knew he’d need anything extra to take the fucker down once he began to slow.

In his mind, Hook thanked his physical therapist, who’d concentrated on helping him make the adjustment to his new circumstance, learning to use his prosthetic, but who also continued to meet him on the track three or four mornings a week to make sure he worked out the rest of his body to help, not only keep him toned for the work he did, but to keep his dark moods at bay. Raydeen Pickering was a hero in his mind, because she went the extra mile for every man and woman she accepted into her treatment program.

Ahead of him, Scooter ducked into another alley.

“He’s turned again,” he said, knowing the others could hear him through the radio in his earpiece. “Left, into an alley.”

“I’m behind you,” Cochise said. “Don’t let him out of your sight.”

“I’m cutting through another alley. Will try to get to the street before he does,” Dagger said in his ear.

Hook went left and entered an alley lit by a single golden bulb at the back door of a restaurant. He ran past rank-smelling trash bins and plastic bags but didn’t see his mark ahead. “Don’t see him,” he said, and then slowed and turned.

Something dark swung at his head, and he held up his right arm to deflect the blow from a two-by-four from a pallet, no doubt. But the board hit plastic and metal and bounced off. Hook swung under it with his left, catching Scooter in the chin. Their target dropped like a sack of rocks across a row of trash bags lined up on the dirty, smelly pavement.

Hook stood over Scooter, shaking his left hand because it hurt like hell. Then he noted that his prosthetic dangled kind of funny. He tried to open and close the claw, but apparently, Scooter’s blow had damaged the cable. “Fuck,” he said, and gave Scooter a light kick in the side. “Bastard.”

The sounds of two individuals converging on him from different directions forced him to contain his anger and tuck his prosthetic against his body to hide the damage. The last thing he ever wanted to have happen was for one of these guys to think he was less capable of mixing it up. For the most part, he thought of his arm as an advantage in a fight. Metal hit harder than flesh and bone, and, generally, it could sustain a punch much better, too.

Thankfully, he kept a spare in his vehicle. He just had to get there. But first things first.

Scooter moaned from the ground as Cochise then Dagger came to a halt beside him and stared downward.

“Like we tried to tell you before you ran like a scared rabbit,” Hook said to Scooter, “we’re fugitive recovery agents, and we’re taking you to jail.”

Scooter pushed up on an elbow. “What the hell is that smell?”

Dagger sniffed. “Don’t know, but now I’m hungry. Could be chili.”

“I think it’s stew,” Cochise dead-panned. “Benny’s Eats makes a mean beef stew.”

“Shit, it’s all the way up my shirt,” Scooter said as he sat, rubbing his jaw.

“Well, looks like you’ll have something to snack on during the drive back,” Dagger drawled.

Scooter let out a huff. “Goddamn. My car, man. I left it at the gun shop.”

“You’ll just have to pick it up from impound,” Dagger said, “if the judge is stupid enough to let someone bond you out again.”

Hook reached down his left hand to help Scooter to his feet.

Scooter frowned. “Damn, you wearing armor on your arm? My teeth about rattled out of my head when I hit you.” Then he glanced at Hook’s metal claw. “Well, shit. That explains a lot.”

Hook reached for his handcuffs from the pocket on the back of his web belt. When he pulled them forward, he realized he wasn’t going to be able to cuff him, not one-handed.

Cochise held out his hand. “Let me do the honors.”

Hook pressed his lips together and handed him his handcuffs. If he’d been on his own, he’d have managed, somehow, but he might have had to put Scooter back on the ground first. He hadn’t quite mastered the single-handed snap using his left hand. Everything was harder to master with his left. Maybe he should ask Raydeen to add handcuffing to the everyday tasks he worked on improving.

Once Cochise had Scooter restrained, he stood back and let Hook grip Scooter’s upper arm to take him back to their vehicles.

The walk back was interminable. They passed the bikers who shot them birds but otherwise stayed pretty mellow. Back at the gun shop, Lacey, Dagger’s partner, gave a wave to the shop owner and sauntered their way. She’d canvassed the businesses in Libby days ago, leaving cards. No doubt the middle-aged owner had been only too eager to snitch, because then she’d grace his shop again. Dressed in skin-tight jeans and a pink button-down blouse that she’d knotted at her midriff, Lacey looked like a sweet confection. All that was missing was the powdered sugar.

“Hey there, Scooter,” she said. Then she shook her head and held her nose. “Good Lord, he is not riding in our vehicle.”

Hook grunted. “You can ride with me. I’ll even let you drive.”

Lacey might have looked like a cupcake, but she was one sharp cookie. Her gaze went to the arm he’d tucked close to his body, and she gave him a broad smile. “Dagger, you don’t mind if I ride with Hook, do you? I’ve never had the chance to talk with him alone.”

Dagger narrowed his eyes.

Lacey gave him a blinding smile. “See you back in Bear Lodge! Only you’ll be way later than us,” she said, then held her nose again and gave him a wink.
Cochise chuckled. “Come on, Scooter. You’ve got a new date with a judge. Bet if you sweettalk your jailers, they’ll let you have a shower before they put you in your cell.”

After Cochise, Dagger, and Scooter left, Lacey turned back to Hook, her big blue eyes rounding in concern. “Oh my God, you’re hurt!”

Just after I moved to the area where I now live (New South Wales, Australia), I checked out possibilities for classes as I’m always interested in learning new things. Finding a six-week evening course on making silver jewelry, I asked if it would be suitable for a complete beginner; assured that it was, I signed up. Well, it wasn’t. The tutor preferred to work with the seven others all of whom who had done a course with her previously. She started me off cutting silver, and only later did I realize she hadn’t given any occupational health and safety information surely essential in a studio with sharp tools, soldering and electrical equipment, and a gas-heated dish. I pestered her with “Is this OK?” and “What do I do next?”, and filled a notebook with instructions. After the six weeks, I ended up with a ring, two pairs of earrings and an unfinished pendant. The ring was too small, one pair of earrings too heavy while the other, on which I etched a simple design, was definitely wearable.

But I did come away from this unsatisfactory experience with something worthwhile: an idea for crafting a story involving a silver jewelry designer. My contemporary romantic comedy, Silver Linings, was hatched. I’d recently completed Hot Ticket, which is located in tropical Darwin, and I wanted to set this new romance at the other end of Australia, in an isolated area with harsh winter weather. I love researching, and if it involves travel, so much the better! So I explored southern Tasmania, conceiving a wild island on the edge of the Southern Ocean. I also spent time in Hobart and nearby areas visiting galleries similar to where my characters could sell their creations, and inventing a funky bar where Alistair takes Cassandra after he almost runs her over. No one almost ran me over but I did get to a funky bar…

Silver Linings

He almost runs her over, she breaks a shoe in a drain…what can he do but play Prince Charming? This near accident caused by Alistair is Cassandra’s introduction to life in the fun lane. Both fresh out of inappropriate relationships and jobs, each is novelty value for the other. But their exes are pulling tricks to be reinstated, offering lifestyles where income is guaranteed. So can Cassie’s passion for fashioning silver jewellery and Al’s for re-purposing driftwood timber keep them fed?

Excerpt:

Friday, bloody Friday. Why did it always rain on Fridays?

Waiting at a red light, Alistair drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. Might as well rain forever. No job, retrenched this sodden morning after four years, downsizing they called it. No girlfriend, ditched last soaking Friday after two years, upsizing Toni called it.

By the time the light condescended to turn green, he could have become fluent in Urdu. He flicked the wipers to fast, the heater to high, and the headlights on as he joined the five p.m. traffic crawling towards Hobart’s Tasman Bridge. July in southern Tasmania made a man hallucinate about a tropical Queensland beach—and yet he loved the island. Which was why he’d fallen onto the singles trash heap. And why he’d probably be jobless until the South Pole’s icecap melted and drowned them all. He didn’t need to open the window to feel the chilly winds of a miserable future.

Jeez! He stamped on the brake. Why the hell didn’t the damn fool woman look? Glancing in the rear view mirror, he sucked in his breath. She was standing in the roadway. Thank God he hadn’t hit her. A bus behind him honked as he skidded to a halt. Just his luck, he’d pulled up at a stop. He inched forward, pushed into park, toggled the engine off and rummaged for his umbrella. He should clean up this post-Toni mess of newspapers, chocolate wrappers, apple cores, and—hey, was this lottery ticket as winner? Nah, nothing in his life was a winner. His fingers located the recalcitrant umbrella. He swung out of the car in time to see the bus driver make a rude sign at him. He returned it and was rewarded with a shower of slimy spray as the bus pulled out.

Cassandra had no desire to do a Cinderella and leave her shoe in the gutter, so she stumbled onto the kerb on one and a half heels. She glared in the direction of a silver bullet of a car. Not satisfied with half-drowning her, that maniac had ruined her shoes. She hobbled to a streetlight to lean against it, took off her left shoe and examined it. She’d felt it catch in a drain as she struggled to save herself from annihilation. Tatters of leather were all that connected the last two inches of heel to the first four.

The sight of her poor battered shoe crushed the last straw holding up her life. Straws had been crumpling for months, and after today’s incendiary stuff in her office, and terminal exasperation with her serial date-cancelling fiancé, she might a well drop out of civilisation. Ex-office, since she’d left her boss in no doubt that she would ever go back. And fiancé? Ex too? Her engagement ring, tossed among the clutter at the bottom of her bag two hours ago when Jeremy had cancelled tonight, was emitting persuasive return-to-sender signals. Then he’d couriered the theatre tickets for this evening, suggesting she took her brother. Getting run over was almost a preferred option to going anywhere with Gordon.

She sighed, regarded her shoe with displeasure, and pushed her foot into it. It would have to get her home, if she could ever manage to cross the road to her bus stop.

Priscilla Brown
www.Amazon.com/dp/B078Y6RW7Z
https://priscillabrownauthor.com

It’s February and we’re in the midst of a snowstorm in Ontario, Canada! I thought I’d share a spring-like recipe to try to nudge Mother Nature into giving us warmer temperatures. Everyone think spring!!

Lemon Mousse
Soften 1 package of gelatin in 1/4 cup cold water for 1-2 minutes. Then stir over low heat until dissolved.
Add: 1 Tbsp. lemon rind
½ cup fresh lemon juice
½ cup white sugar
Stir in 2/3 cup plain yogurt OR Greek vanilla yogurt 0% fat.
Whip 1 cup whipping cream with ½ cup sugar and fold into above. Chill 3-4 hours. Serves 4.

I’m excited to share a little bit about the fourth book of my In the Game Hockey Romance series. It’s a stand-alone story and was one of my favourites to write. Jordan’s “spirited” aunt pops in for a visit to give Jordan some much needed moral support. I believe that our loved ones are always looking out for us as our guardian angels. And Jordan could definitely use the nudge in her love life!

Before the Whistle
(In the Game Hockey Romance series, Book 4)

Jordyn Kendra is a talented designer and savvy businesswoman. Spending eighteen hours a day establishing and running a successful business doesn’t leave much time for pursuing a relationship, and frankly she hasn’t really missed it. But when an invitation arrives that could help her fulfill her career dreams, she has to make a decision. What’s harder: going to a gala without a date or finding someone to ask?

Ben Matthews, head athletic therapist for the wildly popular Clarington Quakes hockey team, tends to stand out in a crowd. When Jordyn doesn’t recognize him, it puts a dent in his ego, but he catches her attention when he jumps in to save a life.

She’s a queasy bystander, cowering at the sight of blood, and he’s cool, calm, and confident, which she finds irresistible. With a little prodding from her spirited aunt, Jordyn realizes that she and Ben might be the perfect mismatch.

Before the Whistle – when cool and calm in an emergency is totally hot.

Excerpt

The man who’d walked in as she’d come out of the pool – and wasn’t he gorgeous? – glanced over at the teenagers and then stepped in front of her, blocking their view. “Hi. You’re Jordyn, right? Danni’s friend?”

Jordyn stumbled to a stop. The top of her head came level with the middle of his bare chest. There were only a few advantages to being short. Being eye level with that view – sculpted muscle, smooth skin, broad shoulders – was definitely one of them. She swept her gaze up to his face. He looked familiar, but she couldn’t place him.

“Ben Matthews. I work with the Quakes.” He took the towel from around his neck and handed it to her.

She took it without thinking. “Of course.” He was the head athletic therapist for the Clarington Quakes, the professional hockey team in town. She’d met him a couple of times at team events when she’d accompanied her friend, Dr. Danni Angelo, who was one of the team physicians. She hadn’t realized that impressive physique was under the loose team jacket he usually wore. “Hi, Ben. Yes, I’m Jordyn Kendra. Nice to see you.” She held up the towel. “Ah, thanks, but I don’t really need to take yours. I left one on the chair over there.” She pointed to the lounger at the end of the pool.

He nodded. “That’s okay. I can get another. You go ahead – it’s a bit chilly in here.”

Jordyn tilted her head. Really? The water was cool, but the air felt like a balmy summer day. She shrugged and wrapped the towel around herself. “I didn’t know you lived in this condo.”

He smiled. “Just moved in last month. I had an apartment close to the rink, but when something opened up with a view of the river, I jumped at it.”

“You can’t beat it. You’ll love it here. I’m sure you’re busy with the team, but it really is convenient having the pool, squash courts, and weight room in the building.”

“I’m certainly enjoying the view.” His eyes lit with amusement.

Jordyn nodded. “Well, I should get going. It was good to see you. Maybe we’ll see more of each other.”

He chuckled. “Maybe.”

That was funny? She didn’t get it. “Thanks for the towel.”

“Anytime.”

She walked toward the change room and glanced back as Ben dove into the water. Hmm. Perfect form and hardly a splash. For a huge guy, he was pretty graceful. It looked like he’d done that before. She fleetingly wondered if he ever had trouble with shrinking bathing trunks.

She headed inside and fiddled with the combination of the lock to her locker. She’d rather shower upstairs in her condo, but she’d brought a cover to wear in the elevator. She unwrapped the towel, threw it on the bench, and glanced at her reflection in the mirror across the room. Her heart pounded in shock.

Her bathing suit was completely see-through. Her eyes widened. It left absolutely nothing to the imagination. She groaned and covered her cheeks with her hands. No wonder the teenagers had been so interested.

She shook her head and laughed in embarrassment.

Buy link:
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07HFQGXSM/

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.

Website: http://www.lindaoconnor.net
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/LindaOConnorAuthor
Twitter: https://twitter.com/LindaOConnor98
Amazon Author Page: http://www.amazon.com/Linda-OConnor/e/B00S7CNLEA
Newsletter Sign up: http://www.lindaoconnor.net/contact/

For those of you who don’t know, my sister Elle James and I started out writing stories together. We were busy learning the craft and leaning on each other’s strengths. One of us was better at dialogue, the other better at description…one of us was better with love scenes…  In the end, we wrote several stories together before heading off in our own directions. One thing we loved writing together was romantic comedy. When we brainstormed a new story, we’d have each other in stitches from laughter. We wrote a series of comedies, all set in Texas (we were both living there at the time!), about friends who’d made it big but hadn’t yet found their true loves. This post is just a reminder that there’s an entire series of fun awaiting you…

Here are all the Texas Billionaires Club stories…

 

 

Contest

Win your choice of one of our Texas Billionaire Club stories!
There will be 3 winners! All you have to do to enter is answer me this…

What’s your favorite romantic comedy movie?

Tarzan & Janine

See what happens when a secret billionaire and an aspiring actress get a little wild in Texas

A man with a soft spot for women…

Closet Texas billionaire, Tanner Peschke has three months to prove he can make a profit at the family used car dealership or he will lose his job, disappoint his father and break his promise to his dying mother. The root of his problem is women. He can’t resist them—any of them. All it takes is the scent of delicate perfume or a misty-eyed gaze from an elderly woman with a sob story, and he becomes silly putty in the hands of his feminine customers. Until, with a stroke of luck and a buck of a mechanical bull, he hires Janine Davis to star with him in the dealership’s live TV ads.

A woman who won’t let a handsome cowboy get in the way of her dream…

Determined to make a name for herself, Janine needs to pay the bills between acting jobs. The offer to do a series of commercials for Peschke Motors is a chance to get her face “out there”. Recognizing a player when she sees one, Janine agrees to co-star with her handsome employer fully intending to keep their relationship strictly professional. First break she gets, she’s heading to Hollywood.

Their jungle-themed commercials take a crazy twist, and Tanner finds himself falling…from a sales banner while chasing a monkey. But more importantly, he’s falling for Janine. She’s just the one woman to tame this cowboy’s wild heart. Convincing her to stay with him might be harder than catching a mischievous monkey.

Order Ebook: Kindle | Nook | Kobo | iBooks
Order Print: Amazon

Excerpt

“It’s time, Miss Davis,” came a male voice, not Tanner’s, through the hollow panel of the bathroom door.

“I’ll be right out,” she called. Alternating between tugging down the hem of the bottoms to cover her fanny, and pulling up the top to cover her breasts, she stormed out of the bathroom, across the showroom floor, and out into the lighted car lot.

Judging by the gauntlet of wolf calls she passed through to get to the television crew, every salesman in the dealership must have stayed late. They all wanted to witness the live filming by a group of college students Tanner hired to keep the budget low. As part of the crew’s curriculum requirement, the commercial would air live on the university’s public television station.

A man carrying a spider monkey approached and shoved the critter into her arms. “This is Spunky. You need to keep a hold on the monkey at all times, or he’ll take off. Catching him will take us hours.”

“Hey! Nobody said anything about a monkey.” Janine pushed the little guy back at his handler, but the jerk turned and trotted to a position beyond the spotlights. Her chances of being taken seriously as an actress slipping through the seams of her skimpy costume and the busy fingers of the monkey, Janine suppressed the urge to scream.

“Quiet, everybody. Two minutes to take,” the young director’s voice boomed through a megaphone. “Where’s Tanner?”

The animal handler called to Janine from the sidelines. “Remember, whatever you do, don’t let go of the monkey.”

“Right, don’t let go of the monkey.” Janine’s head swiveled side to side in search of the nutcase who’d talked her into this crazy commercial. She’d felt more in control on the bucking mechanical bull at the convention than she did right now.

Suddenly, the crowd of used car salesmen parted. Tanner strode toward her with his long, loose-limbed gait and all the confidence and charm of a professional actor. Tanner, dressed casually in his ever-present blue jeans, chambray shirt, cowboy hat and cowboy boots, smiled as he worked his way through the crowd of onlookers.

Janine snorted. I’ll bet he’s never ridden a horse a day in his life.

He walked right up and turned the full force of his smile on her.

Damn. Her knees went weak, complementing the butterflies in her stomach and the monkey fidgeting in her arms.

As the cameras moved into position, panic filled her. “You never told me what my lines were. What am I supposed to say?”

“Just stand over there and look beautiful. I’ll do all the rest.” He adjusted his hat with enough confidence for both of them. “And smile when I introduce you. That frown makes you look mean.”

Janine opened her mouth to carve his enormous ego down to size and remind him she was an actress, not a model.

Before one word could cross Janine’s lips, she was cut off by the cameraman. “Mr. Peschke, I hope you’re ready because this is not a rehearsal, you’re going live in five…four…three…two…” He pointed ‘one’. The camera was trained on Tanner, the red button lit, and the feed was direct.

Without missing a beat, Tanner smiled, looking completely at ease in front of the camera. “Howdy, folks. It’s a jungle out there. We know how difficult wading through the gimmicks and sales jargon is when buying a used car.”

She had to admit he sounded charming and genuine. After sabotaging her job with BS-Squared, he’d conned Janine into taking this job. She bet he could sell ice to Eskimos.

Spunky’s hairy little hand slipped beneath the bra of her outfit.

Janine slapped at his hand, eliciting a shriek from the monkey. “You must be a male,” she muttered, wishing Tanner would fall on his pretty face in front of the camera.

“Are you sick of the new car prices and immediate depreciation when you drive a car off the lot? Let us take the monkey off your back…” Tanner swung an arm in her direction.

Spunky crawled up on her shoulders and played with her hair. How about getting this monkey off my back? Crap. She’d spent hours trying to fix her hair beautifully for the commercial. Great, when they finally get the cameras on me, I look like the monkey.

“…and show you what we’ve got in low mileage, pre-owned vehicles at rock-bottom prices.”

At that moment, the creature latched onto the strings holding her halter-top in place. She felt her boobs dip and her stomach knotted.

“Stop that, Spunky,” she whispered, making a grab for both of his tiny, dexterous fingers and the tail that seemed just as facile.

The monkey ignored her, chattering happily, hands and tail dodging her flailing attempts.

“Join us this weekend for our ‘Monkey Off Your Back Sale.’ We’ll be servin’ free banana milkshakes to all the folks who come out.” Tanner’s voice kept up the running monologue despite the monkey’s antics, true to form for a car salesman.

Janine simmered as she struggled for control. Let’s get this over with before this monkey craps on me.

Books are funny things. The idea of an eccentric heiress who leaves her fortune to a pet pig Matilda started out as one book in another series. Eventually, it morphed into a new, 3-book series. I had 3 women who are “chosen” to compete for custody of the pig (and control of the money). They are all family descendants in some way. Then I added 3 gorgeous men who are basically there to watch over the contestants. There’s the lawyer overseeing the will. He brings his two best friends to help make sure no one does anything underhanded.

Once I had the 6 main characters, I had a problem. They were all such great characters. I couldn’t figure out how to wrap up the heiress games & pronounce a winner, but still keep everyone around afterwards. I knew they all had a story to tell about what happened during The Heiress Games. So, I decided to have each book follow the same sequence of events but show things from the other characters’ point-of-view. I had to create an excel sheet laying out all the scenes and where everyone was at all times. The real tricky part came whenever there were group scenes where all the characters were present. I had to use the same dialogue, only the action is seen through someone else’s eyes. Not easy. Especially trying to keep everything straight and make sure any changes were reflected in all 3 books.

The structure also meant I had to make Books 1 and 2 into cliffhangers. I know some readers don’t like them, but I couldn’t see how to reveal who won the pig (and other mysteries) in Book 1 without spoiling the other books. Each book wraps up the romance nicely, but the ultimate reveal comes at the end of Book 3.

It’s not something I recommend doing, actually, LOL. I’ll probably never do it again.

Anyway, I hope readers do enjoy the intertwined stories…and forgive me for the cliffhanger.

Least Likely Heiress

A fortune…and love…is at stake

Eccentric heiress, Victoria Armington, has died and left her vast fortune to her pet pig, Matilda. Now three Armington descendants have been chosen to compete for custody of the pig…and control of the money. Then there’s the lawyer in charge of overseeing the competition, and his two best friends, who arrive to make sure nothing goes wrong.

Welcome to The Heiress Games…

Heiress #1: Eve Bennett

She’s a struggling single mother whose claim to the Armington name stems from an affair between Palm Cove’s founder and his mistress. Winning the money will mean her family will never want for anything again. There’s just one big, knee-weakening, mouth-watering problem…the talk, dark and gorgeous lawyer in charge of the Heiress Games.

For high-powered attorney, Cameron Reed, sorting out the craziest will he’s ever encountered could mean a partnership at his firm. He’s survived becoming an orphan and an endless round of foster homes, and now he’s one step away from realizing his dream. If only he can keep from losing his heart to the one woman who could ruin all his plans.

As Cam and Eve fight their feelings, there’s also a saboteur at work. Someone who might stop at nothing to make sure no one wins.

ALERT! The Heiress Games is like no other series. You’ll actually see the same events unfold in Books 2 (Not Quite An Heiress) and 3 (The Forgotten Heiress), but from the other characters’ points of view. Each romance will come to a satisfying conclusion, but you’ll have to wait for the ultimate winner to be announced at the end of the series. The author apologizes in advance for writing a cliffhanger, but knows you’ll love the journey to the grand finale.

Links:
Amazon: http://a.co/3PS7DAp
iTunes: http://ow.ly/1qk330hXuZW
B&N: http://ow.ly/xjSj30hXuFx
Kobo: http://ow.ly/sof830hXv6b

Hi, I’m Gail Hart, author of grown up romances for grown up girls. Thanks so much to my RomVets sister-at-arms, Delilah Devlin, for having me as her guest.

On Saturday my favorite writing group held its first write-in of 2018, and somehow the conversation turned to religion—which at the moment is at least a safer topic than politics!

Turns out, one attendee is a descendant of Jews who immigrated from eastern Europe to east Texas around the turn of the twentieth century and converted to Catholicism. She observes both of the religious traditions she inherited.

Another was raised Catholic but now describes herself as a “heathen.”

I grew up in the Unitarian-Universalist church but hadn’t attended regularly in about two decades. Then a couple of years ago I heard that the nearest UU church was calling a new minister. On a whim I went to hear his candidate sermon. He hooked me by using humor to make serious points; by revealing that he met his wife at Starbuck’s; and by quoting one of my favorite movie lines, “What is the air-speed velocity of an unladen swallow?” (For those of you too young to remember, the line is from Monty Python and the Holy Grail, and the correct answer is, “African or European?”) So I returned to the religion of my youth.

The heroine of my latest book, Her Magic Touch, goes on a religious journey of her own. Over the course of the story, Sarah trades Christianity for an earth-centered religion—despite the strong objections of the men in her life. I hope you’ll enjoy watching Sarah learn to follow her heart.

HER MAGIC TOUCH

Sarah Talbot is trapped in a life at odds with her free spirit. She wishes she had the guts to chuck the business world for something more creative. Until then, she’s eager to explore her newfound gift for casting spells. Too bad the hunky bartender who gets her all hot and bothered has had his fill of hocus-pocus.

Abandoned by his teenage mother, ex-Marine, personal trainer, and part-time bartender Matt Lucas grew up in the loving but chaotic home of his aunt, a quirky local witch. He longs to buy his own gym, meet a sensible businesswoman, and build a secure, conventional life. The last thing he wants is to fall in love with a witch.

Can love conjure the magic these two hearts need to thrive?

Excerpt

Tension snaked through Sarah’s body as she listened to the phone ringing on the other end. After five rings, she was ready to hang up when a woman’s voice came on the line, breathing heavily. “Hello?”

She took a deep breath and plunged in. “Hi. May I speak to Ms. Parker?”

“You are, but it’s Zoe.”

“I’m calling because I saw the article in the Post…”

“I know. I’ve been expecting your call. That’s why I answered, even though I’m in the middle of feeding the goats, instead of letting the call go to voicemail.”

“How can you have been expecting to hear from me? You don’t even know my name.”

Zoe’s tone was soothing. “Then tell me your name, daughter.”

“Umm, it’s Sarah. Sarah Talbot.”

“And you want to learn about developing your gift.”

She gripped the phone more tightly. “You probably get calls from a lot of kooks, but I’m not one of them, I swear… hold it, how did you know why I was calling?”

“As I said, I was expecting you. The universe told me you’d be coming to me for guidance.”

“The universe talks to you?”

“Of course. It speaks to you too. How do you think you found me?”

“Through the Washington Post.”

“Yes, dear, but why do you think the reporter was led to write that article at that time?”

“Are you saying…”

“I’m saying that when the student is ready, the teacher will appear.”

Buy Links

Amazon: https://tinyurl.com/yanmfrmo
Barnes & Noble: https://tinyurl.com/ydfjhchz
iBooks: https://tinyurl.com/ya3qya8l
Kobo: https://tinyurl.com/yc8wnyap

About Gail

Before becoming a writer, former Romance Writers of America Golden Heart contest finalist Gail Hart spent a few years as an Air Force JAG, then settled in as a lawyer and manager for the US government. Despite what opposing counsel sometimes said about her briefs, she didn’t write any fiction until later in her career. She must have been destined to be a romance writer, though, because even the law review article she wrote had “sex” in the title. She spent most of her life on the east coast but now lives in San Antonio, where she doesn’t miss the cold

Find Gail

Website: www.gailhart.com
Facebook: www.facebook.com/authorgailhart/
Twitter: www.twitter.com/Gail_Hart/

UPDATE: The winner is Buttons!

* * * * *

My favorite cause—finding forever homes for homeless pets—is also the inspiration for my Klein’s K-9s Service Dogs contemporary romance series. In fact, all of the pets in my books were adopted from animal shelters or rescue groups. There is a long-held, erroneous idea that shelter animals are pathetic mutts, flea-bitten cats, or vicious, antisocial pets. The majority are wonderful animals in need of love and a family. Through our writing, authors have the opportunity to reinforce that fact and encourage responsible pet ownership, such as spaying or neutering pets.

Smokey, my author logo and the Chinese crested hairless drug-sniffing dog from my first book, At Her Command, was adopted from a shelter. The idea of such a talented, tiny dog working for DEA appealed to my sense of humor, and I’ve included a crested in all of my books since.

Klein’s K-9s

My Klein’s K-9s series features wonderful working pets—from police and military dogs to service and therapy animals. In Racing Hearts, the first novella in the series, a toy-sized dog is a trained seizure alert dog. Tom Tyler, my race-car driver hero, suffers a traumatic brain injury and is at first skeptical that a dog who barely reaches his ankle can help him. But soon he’s relying on the little pooch and falling for Meg Klein, the dog’s trainer.

Buy Links for “Racing Hearts”

Amazon: http://amzn.to/1OzgWn9
Barnes & Noble: http://tinyurl.com/jnbntuu
Kobo: https://store.kobobooks.com/en-us/ebook/racing-hearts-9
Apple: http://tinyurl.com/zkps7pa

The second in the series, 8 Hounds a-Howling, is a humorous story about the photographing of a dog-themed 12 Days of Christmas calendar. This novella includes 78 dogs, along with several cats and a pot-bellied pig. The third Klein’s K-9s novella, Nothing But a Hound Dog, finds a country music star working off his community service sentence at the local animal shelter. The fourth, Scrooge & the Secret Santa, pits an anti-Christmas police dog trainer against a holiday-loving therapy animal trainer. Love, of course, wins.

Contest

Not surprisingly, I enjoy stories that feature pets. I’d love to hear your favorite books, TV shows, and movies that include animals. Tomorrow, I’ll randomly pick several commenters to receive a free “Racing Hearts” ebook! I hope you’ll drop by my website to check out my books. Happy Adopt-a-Shelter-Dog Month and Happy Halloween!

About the Author

Marcia James finaled in 11 Romance Writers of America contests before selling her first contemporary romance. A national and international Amazon and Barnes & Noble bestseller, she writes hot, humorous romances featuring heroines you can root for, heroes to die for, and funny dogs. In her eclectic career, Marcia has shot submarine training videos, organized celebrity-filled nonprofit events, and had her wedding covered by People Magazine. After years of dealing with such sexy topics as how to safely install traffic lights, she’s enjoying “researching” and plotting her novels’ steamy love scenes with her husband and hero of many years.

Website: www.MarciaJames.net
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/MarciaJamesAuthor
Twitter: http://twitter.com/Marcia_James
Pinterest: http://pinterest.com/marciajames/
Amazon Author Central page: www.amazon.com/author/marciajames