Spotlight – Keep Me Warm at Christmas

24 Wednesday Nov 2021

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Brenda Novak, Keep Me Warm at Christmas, Silver Springs series

Keep Me Warm at Christmas

Silver Springs #9

by Brenda Novak

ISBN: 9780778311256

Publication Date: September 28, 2021

Publisher: MIRA Books

Blurb:

Maybe this Christmas can thaw his frozen heart—and heal hers.

Hollywood starlet Tia Beckett knows one moment can change your life. Her career had been on the fast track before a near-fatal accident left her with a debilitating facial scar. Certain her A-lister dreams are over, she agrees to house-sit at her producer’s secluded estate in Silver Springs. It’s the escape from the limelight Tia’s been craving, until she discovers she’s not the only houseguest for the holidays. And her handsome new roomie is impossible to ignore.

Books-A-Million Powell’s

*****

Excerpt:

Chapter One

Thursday, December 11

Tia Beckett ran a finger along the jagged scar on her cheek as she gazed into the mirror above the contemporary console on the living room wall. She’d taken down almost every mirror in her own house as soon as she came home from the hospital— broken them all and tossed them out. But she couldn’t do the same here. This wasn’t her home, and there seemed to be mirrors everywhere, each one projecting the same tragic image.

She leaned closer. It must’ve been the windshield that nearly destroyed her face.

She dropped her hand. After a month, her cheek was still tender, but she continued to examine her reflection. The woman in the mirror was a complete stranger. If she turned her head to the left, she could find herself again. The shiny black hair that framed an oval face. The smooth and creamy olive-colored skin. The bottle-green eyes with long, thick eyelashes. The full lips, which were her own, not a product of Botox injections. All the beauty that’d helped her land the leading role in Hollywood’s latest blockbuster was still there.

But when she turned her head to the right…

Her stomach soured as she studied the raised, pink flesh that slanted in a zigzag fashion from the edge of her eye almost to her mouth. The doctor had had to piece that side of her face back together like a quilt. He’d said there was a possibility that cosmetic surgery could improve the scars later, but that wasn’t an option right now. After what she’d been through already, she couldn’t even contemplate another surgery. It’d be too late to save her career by then, anyway.

Who was this poor, unfortunate creature? Her agent, her fellow cast members for Expect the Worst, the romantic comedy in which she costarred with box-office hit Christian Allen, and the friends she’d made since moving to LA said she was lucky to have survived the accident. And maybe that was true. But it was difficult to feel lucky when she’d lost all hope of maintaining her career just as it was beginning to skyrocket.

A knock at the front door startled her. Who could that be? She didn’t want to see anyone, not even her friends—and especially not the press. They’d been hounding her since the accident, trying to snap a picture of her damaged face and demanding an answer as to whether she would quit acting. That was part of the reason she’d readily accepted when Maxi Cohen, the producer of her one and only film, offered to let her stay at his massive estate in Silver Springs, ninety minutes northwest of LA. He and his family would be in Israel for the holidays, so he needed someone to house-sit. That was what he’d said. What she’d heard was that she could hide out for a month and be completely alone. And she wouldn’t even have to pay for the privilege. She just had to care for the houseplants, feed and play with Kiki, the parrot, occasionally drive each of the six vehicles parked in the airplane-hangar-sized garage and make sure nothing went wrong.

She also turned on the lights in the main house at night—Maxi didn’t yet have them set up on a timer, like those in his yard—so that it looked occupied since she was staying in the guesthouse, which was smaller and more comfortable. But that was probably unnecessary. There wasn’t a lot of crime in Silver Springs. Known for its boutique hotels, recreational opportunities and local, organic produce, it was sort of like Santa Barbara, only forty minutes away and closer to the coast, in that there were plenty of movie moguls and the like who had second homes here.

Still, he couldn’t have left Kiki without a caretaker. And safe was always better than sorry. He also owned an extensive art collection that could never be replaced, so she figured he was wise to have someone watch over it, just in case

Whoever was at the door rapped again, more insistently. Maxi had given the housekeeper and other staff a paid holiday. Even the gardeners were off, since the yard didn’t grow much during the cold, rainy season. The entire estate was essentially in mothballs until Maxi returned. And no one Tia knew could say exactly where she was. So why was someone at her door? How had whoever it was gotten onto the property? The front gate required a code.

“Hello? Anyone home?” A man’s strident voice came through the panel. “Maxi said you’d be in the guesthouse.”

Damn. Those words suggested whoever it was had a right to be here, or at least permission. She was going to have to answer the door.

“Coming,” she called. “Just…give me a minute.” She hurried into the bedroom, where her suitcase lay open on the floor. She’d arrived in Silver Springs two days ago but hadn’t bothered to unpack. There hadn’t seemed to be much point. There didn’t seem to be much point in doing anything anymore. She hadn’t bothered to shower or dress this morning, either, and she was wearing the same sweat bottoms, T-shirt and socks she’d had on yesterday.

Yanking off her clothes, she pulled on a robe so that there’d be no expectation of hospitality as she scurried back through the living room. Still reluctant to speak to anyone, she peered through the peephole.

A tall, slender man—six-two, maybe taller—stood on the stoop. His dark hair had outgrown its last haircut and stuck out beneath a red beanie, he had a marked five-o’clock shadow, suggesting he hadn’t shaved for a couple of days, and a cleft chin almost as pronounced as that of Henry Cavill. He was a total stranger to her, but he had to be one of Maxi’s friends or associates, and she should treat him as such.

Bracing herself—human interaction was something she now avoided whenever possible—she took a deep breath. Please, God, don’t let him recognize me or have anything to do with the media.

The blinds were already pulled, so she turned off the lights and cracked the door barely wide enough to be able to peek out with her good side. “What can I do for you?”

His scowl darkened as his gaze swept over what he could see of her. He must’ve realized she was wearing a robe, because he said, “I hate to drag you out of bed at—” he checked his watch “—two in the afternoon. But could you let me into the main house before I freeze my—” catching himself, he cleared his throat and finished with “—before I freeze out here?”

Assuming he was a worker of some sort—she couldn’t imagine why he’d be here, bothering her, otherwise—she couldn’t help retorting, “Sure. As long as you tell me why I should care whether you freeze or not.”

The widening of his eyes gave her the distinct impression that he wasn’t used to having someone snap back at him. So… maybe he wasn’t a worker.

“Because Maxi has offered to let me stay in his home, and he indicated you’d let me in,” he responded with exaggerated patience. “He didn’t text you?”

“No, I haven’t heard from him.” And surely, what this man said couldn’t be right. Maxi had told her that she’d have the run of the place. She’d thought she’d be able to stay here without fear of bumping into anyone. She’d been counting on it.

“He was just getting on a plane,” he explained. “Maybe he had to turn off his phone.”

“Okay. If you want to give me your number, I’ll text you as soon as I hear from him.” He cocked his head.

“You’ll…what?”

“I’m afraid you’ll have to come back later.”

“I don’t want to come back,” he said. “I just drove six hours, all the way from the Bay Area, after working through the night. I’m exhausted, and I’d like to get some sleep. Can you help me out here?”

His impatience irritated her. But since the accident, she’d been so filled with rage she was almost relieved he was willing to give her a target. “No, I’m afraid I can’t.”

He stiffened. “Excuse me?”

“I can’t let some stranger into the house, not unless Maxi specifically asks me to.” Even if this guy was telling the truth, forcing him to leave would not only bring her great pleasure, it would give her a chance to feed Maxi’s parrot before hiding the key under the mat. Then there would be no need for further interaction. He wouldn’t see her, and she wouldn’t have to watch the shock, recognition and pity cross his face.

Pity was by far the worst, but none of it was fun.

“If I have the code to the gate, I must’ve gotten it from somewhere, right?” he argued. “Isn’t it logical to assume that Maxi is the one who gave it to me?”

“That’s a possibility, but there are other possibilities.”

“Like…”

“Maybe you hopped the fence or got it from one of the staff?” His chest lifted in an obvious effort to gather what little patience he had left. “I assure you, if I was a thief, I would not present myself at your door.”

“I can appreciate why. But I’m responsible for what goes on here right now, which means I can’t take any chances.”

“You won’t be taking any chances!” he argued in exasperation. “If anything goes missing or gets damaged, I’ll replace it.”

What was there to guarantee that? “The art Maxi owns can’t be replaced,” she said and thought she had him. Maxi had told her so himself. But this stranger said the only thing that could trump her statement. “Except by me, since I’m the one who created most of it in the first place,” he said drily.

“You’re an artist?” she asked but only to buy a second or two while she came to grips with a few other things that had just become apparent. If he was one of the artists Maxi collected, he wasn’t some obscure talent. Yet…he couldn’t be more than thirty. And he certainly didn’t look too important shivering in a stretched-out T-shirt, on which the word Perspective was inverted, and jeans that had holes down the front.

“I am,” he replied. “And you are…the house sitter, I presume?”

She heard his disparaging tone. He wondered who the hell she was to tell him what to do. He thought he mattered more than she did. But that came as no surprise: she’d already pegged him as arrogant. She was more concerned about the fact that Maxi might’ve referred to her as a menial laborer. Is that the way her former producer thought of her now? It was only a few months ago that she’d been the most promising actress in Hollywood. Certainly she’d attained more fame than this snooty artist—when it came to having her name recognized by the general public, anyway.

But what did it matter how high she’d climbed? She’d fallen back to earth so hard she felt as though she’d broken every bone in her body, even though the damage to her face was the only lingering injury she’d sustained in the accident. “I’m house-sitting, yes. But, like you, I’m a friend of Maxi’s,” she said vaguely.

Fortunately, he didn’t seem interested enough to press her for more detailed information. She was glad of that.

“Fine. Look, friend.” He produced his phone. “I have proof. This is the text exchange I had with Maxi just before his plane took off. As you can see, he says he has someone—you—staying in the guesthouse, but the main house is available, and I’m welcome to it. If you’ll notice the time, you’ll see that these texts took place just this morning.”

Her heart sank as she read what he showed her: I have someone in the guesthouse. Just get the key from her.

“How long are you planning on being here?” she asked.

“Does it matter?” he replied.

It did matter. But this was Maxi’s estate, and they were both his guests, so she had an obligation to treat him as well as he was accustomed to being treated. “Just a minute,” she said and muttered a curse after she closed the door. There goes all my privacy.

Excerpted from Keep Me Warm at Christmas by Brenda Novak,
Copyright © 2021 by Brenda Novak, Inc.
Published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

*****

Author Info:

New York Times bestselling author Brenda Novak has written over 60 novels. An eight-time Rita nominee, she’s won The National Reader’s Choice, The Bookseller’s Best and other awards. She runs Brenda Novak for the Cure, a charity that has raised more than $2.5 million for diabetes research (her youngest son has this disease). She considers herself lucky to be a mother of five and married to the love of her life.

Author Website

Twitter: @Brenda_Novak

Instagram: @authorbrendanovak

Goodreads

*****

Spotlight – The Matzah Ball

23 Tuesday Nov 2021

Posted by romanticreadsandsuch in Blog Tour, Sneak Peek, Uncategorized

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Jean Meltzer, The Matzah Ball

The Matzah Ball

by Jean Meltzer

ISBN: 9780778311584

Publication Date: September 28, 2021

Publisher: MIRA Books

Blurb:

Oy! to the world

Rachel Rubenstein-Goldblatt is a nice Jewish girl with a shameful secret: she loves Christmas. For a decade she’s hidden her career as a Christmas romance novelist from her family. Her talent has made her a bestseller even as her chronic illness has always kept the kind of love she writes about out of reach.

But when her diversity-conscious publisher insists she write a Hanukkah romance, her well of inspiration suddenly runs dry. Hanukkah’s not magical. It’s not merry. It’s not Christmas. Desperate not to lose her contract, Rachel’s determined to find her muse at the Matzah Ball, a Jewish music celebration on the last night of Hanukkah, even if it means working with her summer camp archenemy—Jacob Greenberg.

Though Rachel and Jacob haven’t seen each other since they were kids, their grudge still glows brighter than a menorah. But as they spend more time together, Rachel finds herself drawn to Hanukkah—and Jacob—in a way she never expected. Maybe this holiday of lights will be the spark she needed to set her heart ablaze.

Books-A-Million Powell’s

*****

Excerpt:

She just needed one more.

Rachel Rubenstein-Goldblatt stared at the collection of miniature Christmas figurines spread across her desk. She owned 236 of the smiling porcelain Santas from the world-famous Holiday Dreams Collection. When her best friend, Mickey, arrived, she would complete that collection with the addition of the coveted Margaritaville Santa.

Oh, the Margaritaville Santa. How she had dreamed of the day when that tiny porcelain Santa, in a Hawaiian shirt and wear-ing Ray-Ban sunglasses, would sit atop her prized collection.

Rachel had scoured eBay for the tiny limited-edition figurine, set up price alerts and left frantic (somewhat drunken) posts at three in the morning on collector blogs. Now, after six years, five months and seven days of hunting, the Margaritaville Santa would finally be hers.

The anxiety was killing her.

Rachel glanced out the window of her apartment. It was snowing outside. Gentle flakes fell down onto Broadway and made New York City feel magical. She was wondering when Mickey would actually get here when there was a knock at the door.

“Finally!” Rachel said. Excitement bubbled up inside her as she raced to the front door, throwing it open. And then, disappointment. Her mother stood in the threshold.

“I was in the neighborhood,” she said, a perfectly innocent smile spread across her two round cheeks.

Her mother was always in the neighborhood.

It was one of the downsides of living on the Upper West Side while her mother, a top New York fertility specialist, worked out of Columbia Hospital just ten blocks away.

Rachel had to think quickly. She loved her mother, and was even willing to entertain her completely intrusive and unannounced visits, but the door to her home office was still open.

“Mickey’s about to stop by,” Rachel warned.

“I won’t be but a minute,” her mother said, lifting up a plastic bag from Ruby’s Smoked Fish Shop as a peace offering. “I brought you some dinner.”

Dr. Rubenstein pushed her way inside, letting her fingers graze the mezuzah on Rachel’s doorpost before entering. Making her way straight to the refrigerator, she began unloading “dinner.”

There was a large vat of chopped liver, two loaves of pum-pernickel bread, three different types of rugalach. Dr. Ruben-stein believed in feeding the people you love, and the love she had for her daughter was likely to end in heart disease.

“How are you feeling?” her mother inquired.

“Fine,” Rachel said, using the opportunity to close her office door.

Dr. Rubenstein looked up from the refrigerator. Her eyes rolled from Rachel’s hair, matted and clumped, down to her wrinkled pink pajamas.

She frowned. “You look pale.”

“I am pale,” Rachel reminded her.

“Rachel,” her mother said pointedly, “you need to take your myalgic encephalomyelitis seriously.”

Rachel rolled her eyes. Outside, the gentle snow was gathering into a full-blown storm.

Dr. Rubenstein was probably one of the few people who called Rachel’s disease by its medical term, the name research scientists and experts preferred, describing the complex mul-tisystem disease that affected her neurological, immune, autonomic and metabolic systems. Most everyone else in the world knew it by the simple and distasteful moniker chronic fatigue syndrome.

Which was, quite possibly, the most trivializing name for a disease in the entire world. The equivalent of calling Alzheimer’s “Senior Moment Syndrome.”

It did not begin to remotely describe the crushing fatigue, migraines, brain fog or weirdo pains that Rachel lived with daily. It certainly did not describe the 25 percent of patients who found themselves bed-bound or homebound—existing on feeding tubes, unable to leave dark rooms for years—or the 75 percent of patients who could no longer work full-time.

For now, however, Rachel was one of the lucky ones. She had managed to graduate college with a degree in creative writing and, over the last decade, build a career working from home.

“Ema,” Rachel said, growing frustrated. “My body, my choice.”

“But—”

“Change the topic.”

Dr. Rubenstein pressed her lips together and swallowed the words on her tongue. It was not an easy feat for the woman. “And how’s work?”

“Good.” Rachel shrugged, returning to the couch. “Noth-ing that interesting to report.”

“And the freelance work you’re doing—” her mother craned her neck to peep around her apartment “—it’s keeping you busy?”

“Busy enough.”

Dr. Rubenstein raised one eyebrow in her daughter’s di-rection.

Rachel knew what her mother was really asking. How can you afford a two-bedroom apartment on the Upper West Side simply by doing freelance editorial work? But Dr. Rubenstein had learned an important halachic lesson from her husband, Rabbi Aaron Goldblatt, early on in their marriage; you don’t ask questions you don’t really want the answers to.

For all Rachel knew, her mother believed her to be a web-cam girl. Or a high-class prostitute. Or the mistress of some dashingly handsome Arabian prince. All of which, Rachel was certain, would be preferable to what she actually did for a living.

“Ema,” Rachel said, steering the conversation away from her career. “What is it you’re really here for?”

“Why do you always think I have an ulterior motive, Rachel?”

“Because I know you.”

“All right!” Dr. Rubenstein threw her hands up into the air. “You caught me. I do have an ulterior motive.”

“Baruch Hashem.”

“Now, it’s nothing bad, I promise,” her mother said, taking a seat on her couch. “I simply wanted to see if you were available for Shabbat dinner this Friday?”

There it was. The real reason for her mother’s visit. Shab-bat at Rabbi Goldblatt’s house was not just a weekly religious occurrence, it was a chance for Dr. Rubenstein to kidnap her daughter for twenty-five hours straight and force her to meet single Jewish men.

Over the years, there had been all sorts of horrible setups. There was the luxury auto dealer who used his sleeve as a napkin during dinner. The rabbinical student who spent an entire Saturday afternoon debating aloud with only her father over what to do when an unkosher meatball falls into a pot of kosher meatballs.

And then, there was her favorite blind date setup of them all. Dovi, the Israeli mountain climber, who had traveled the world in his perfectly healthy and functioning body, before telling Rachel that he didn’t think chronic fatigue syndrome was a real disease.

Chas v’chalilah.

Rachel had no intention of spending another Friday night, and Saturday afternoon, entertaining her mother’s idea of a dreamboat. Especially not when that dreamboat had the word Titanic embroidered across the bottom of their knitted kippah.

“No,” Rachel said.

“Rachel!” her mother pleaded. “Just hear me out.”

“I’m too busy, Ema.”

“But you haven’t been home in ages!”

“You live in Long Island,” Rachel shot back. “I see you and Daddy all the time.”

Her mother could not argue with this factoid.

“Jacob Greenberg will be coming,” her mother finally said. Rachel nearly choked on her tongue. “What?”

“You remember Jacob Greenberg?”

The question sounded so innocent on the surface. Jacob Greenberg. How could Rachel forget the name? The duo had spent one summer together at Camp Ahava in the Berkshires before the seventh grade.

“Jacob Greenberg?” Rachel spit back. “The psychopath who spent an entire summer pulling my hair and pushing me into the lake?”

“I recall you two getting along quite well at one point.”

“He set me up in front of everyone, Mom. He turned my first kiss into a giant Camp Ahava prank!”

“He was twelve!” Dr. Rubenstein was on her feet now. “Twelve, Rachel. You can’t hold a grown man accountable for something he did as a child. For heaven’s sake… The boy hadn’t even had his bar mitzvah.”

Rachel could feel the red rising in her cheeks. A wellspring of complicated emotions rose up inside her. Hate and love. Confusion and excitement. Just hearing his name again after all these years brought Rachel smack-dab back to her ado-lescence. And sitting there beside all those terrible memories of him humiliating her were the good ones. Rachel couldn’t help herself. She drifted back to that summer.

The way it felt to hold his hand in secret. The realiza-tion that there was more to their relationship than just dumb pranks and dead bugs left in siddurs. Jacob had gotten Rachel to open up. She had trusted him. Showed him a side of herself reserved for a select few. Aside from Mickey, she had never been so honest with anybody in her entire life.

Dr. Rubenstein dismissed her daughter’s concerns with a small wave of the hand. “It was eighteen years ago. Don’t you think you’re being a tad ridiculous?”

“Me?” Rachel scoffed. “You’re the one who’s hosting my summer camp archenemy for Shabbat.”

“He’s in town from Paris for some big event he’s throwing. What would you have me do—not invite him?”

“While you’re at it, don’t forget to invite Dana Shoshan-ski. She made me cry every day in third grade. In fact, let me get you a list of all the people who made fun of me for being Rachel Rubenstein-Goldblatt growing up. I want to make sure you don’t miss anybody.”

Her mother did not blink. “I’m sorry it was hard for you…being our daughter.”

Just like that, her mother had twisted all those feelings back around on her.

Rachel bit back her words, looking up to the ceiling. She loved her parents more than anything in the world. They had been there for her at every stage of her life, doting and won-derful. Still, the Rubenstein-Goldblatt name came with pres-sures. They were pressures that, even as an adult, still managed to follow her.

A knock at the door drew their attention away.

“Let me get that for you,” Dr. Rubenstein said sweetly, ris-ing from the couch.

“Ho, ho, ho-oooooooh… .” Mickey said, standing at the door, his smile fading into panic. He was holding a medium-sized red gift bag in the air. He glanced at Rachel, who sig-naled the immediate danger by running one finger across her throat. Quickly Mickey hid the bag behind his back.

“Dr. Rubenstein!” he said, his eyes wide. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Not to worry, Mickey,” Dr. Rubenstein said, adjusting her scarf. “I was just getting ready to leave.” She turned back to her daughter one last time. “Just think about coming to din-ner, okay? Daddy and I won’t be around forever, and there may come a time in your life when you miss spending Shab-bat at your parents’ house.”

Mickey waited for the door to shut firmly behind him and the elevator at the end of the hall to ding before turning to his best friend. “Whoa,” he said. “That woman is a pro when it comes to Jewish guilt.”

“Tell me about it,” Rachel said, collapsing on the couch.“So what did our fine rebbetzin want this evening?” Mickey asked, taking his boots and jacket off at the front door.

“You’ll never believe it if I tell you.”

To everyone that knew them, it seemed that Mickey and Rachel had been bashert, soul mates, since time immemorial, having met at Camp Ahava when they were eight years old.

Since Rachel couldn’t be sure what drew the pair together, she assumed it had something to do with how other people at their camp had treated them. Mikael, the adopted son of a powerhouse lesbian couple from Manhattan, was Black. And Rachel, as everyone who met her cared to remind her, was the daughter of Rabbi Aaron Goldblatt. The Rabbi Aaron Goldblatt.

Whether they liked it or not, when Mickey and Rachel walked into a room, people noticed them. People watched them. This shared experience formed the basis of their com-radery and, later, extended far beyond Jewish summer camp.

“She wanted to set me up with Jacob Greenberg,” Rachel said.

Mickey finished pulling off his boots. “Jacob Greenberg? From Camp Ahava?”

“The one and only.”

“Wow,” Mickey said, coming over to sit beside Rachel. “That’s a name I haven’t heard in forever. Didn’t he give you mono?”

Rachel squeezed her eyes shut. She did not want to think about that first kiss with Jacob Greenberg. “Can we seriously not talk about this right now? I’ve waited seven long years for this moment, Mickey…and just like some of the other most important moments of my life, Jacob Greenberg is ruining it.”

“You’re right,” Mickey said, laying the red bag on the coffee table between them. “And I have just the thing to take your mind off He Who Shall Not Be Named.”

This was it. The moment she had waited for. With eager fingers, Rachel reached into the bag, pulled out the tiny fig-urine and gently removed the plastic bubble wrapping that protected it.

It was even better than she had imagined.

Excerpted from The Matzah Ball by Jean Meltzer,
Copyright © 2021 by Jean Meltzer.
Published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

*****

Author Info:

Author Jean Meltzer studied dramatic writing at NYU Tisch, and served as creative director at Tapestry International, garnering numerous awards for her work in television, including a daytime Emmy. Like her protagonist, Jean is also a chronically-ill and disabled Jewish woman. She is an outspoken advocate for ME/CFS (Chronic Fatigue Syndrome), has attended visibility actions in Washington DC, meeting with members of Senate and Congress to raise funds for ME/CFS. She inspires 9,000 followers on WW Connect to live their best life, come out of the chronic illness closet, and embrace the hashtag #chronicallyfabulous. Also, while she was raised in what would be considered a secular home, she grew up kosher and attended Hebrew School. She spent five years in Rabbinical School.

Author Website

Facebook: @JeanMeltzerAuthor

Instagram: @JeanMeltzer

Goodreads

*****

Spotlight – Rogue Christmas Operation

04 Thursday Nov 2021

Posted by romanticreadsandsuch in Blog Tour, Sneak Peek

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Juno Rushdan, Rogue Christmas Operation

Rogue Christmas Operation

by Juno Rushdan

Blurb:

He’ll sacrifice his safety

…for a woman who could completely upend his Christmas.

After Gage Graham saves her from drowning, Hope Fischer revives, determined to learn the truth about her sister’s death. All she has to do is infiltrate a mysterious closed Virginia town and discover why the attractive—but secretive—Gage feels compelled to help her. Can she trust him? Will he risk being discovered by his former employer, the CIA, for a woman he just met? Neither will matter if a killer succeeds.

Add Rogue Christmas Operation to your Goodreads!

Buy Rogue Christmas Operation by Juno Rushdan

Harlequin.com: https://www.harlequin.com/shop/books/9781335555410_rogue-christmas-operation.html

*****

Excerpt:

She’d been warned. That’s what everyone wanted. For her to leave it all alone. To go back to California and bury her head in the sand.

But then a murderer would go free.

She had failed her sister once. Not again. She swallowed past the ball of anxiety in her throat. You can do this.

The SUV zoomed up alongside her, sending a new wave of fear crashing through her. What was he doing?

No sooner had the thought crossed her mind than the SUV swerved sharply. The front end slammed into her side of the car, propelling it into a wild slide toward the edge.

Hope panicked, hitting the brakes. The wheels locked. Her vehicle lost traction and went into a skid. Everything was happening so fast. Too fast.

Spinning out of control, her car missed a large tree and slid over the edge of the slope. A high-pitched cry escaped her lips. Dirt and rocks spit up. She tried to straighten the steering wheel and pumped the brakes. Her car fishtailed, clipped a tree and went airborne.

The sedan flipped. Rolled end over end down the gradient. Metal crunched and groaned around her.

Hope’s seat belt jerked hard across her body, cutting off her oxygen for a second.

The airbag deployed like a hot fist, knocking her head back against the seat. Dust and chemicals saturated the air.

Her lungs seized as a scream lodged in her throat.

The car slammed to a stop with the impact of crashing into a brick wall. Her skull smashed into something hard.

A riot of pain flared…everywhere. In her head, chest, bones—even her teeth hurt.

Her vision blurred. Not that it mattered. She couldn’t see past the airbag, which was the size of a large beach ball in her face.

Hope pushed on the light fabric, and the airbag deflated. Coughing, she wiped at the wetness coming from her nose with the back of her hand. Blood. Her nose was bleeding.

She switched on the interior light and pushed the deflated airbag out of her way.

The headlights were still on.

Water.

The car was in the lake. Beneath the water, or at least half of it. The weight of the engine pitched the front end forward, so that the car was almost pointing straight down. She looked back at the rear window. Rain and darkness.

Water was starting to seep inside the vehicle. The foot well was filling up as water rushed in. Faster and faster.

Hope pressed the button to release the seat belt. But nothing happened. It was stuck, jammed tight. She yanked on the belt, trying again, tugging and pushing. Praying.

Oh, God. She was trapped.

Icy water rose past her hips to her waist. Shockingly cold. Her toes were already growing numb, and she was shivering. She had to get out. Now!

Her purse floated up on the passenger’s side. If she reached it, got to the Swiss Army knife inside, she could cut herself free.

She extended her hand in the water. Her bag was inches from her fingertips. She stretched out as much as she could, straining her arm muscles. A pang wrenched through her chest, her eyes tearing at the intense pain, but she didn’t stop. She kept reaching for her purse. Almost had it. The bag was so close—she needed to stretch a hair farther, but the seat belt had her pinned.

The car shifted, still moving. Down and down it sank. The car tipped to the side, and water carried her purse away, out of reach.

*****

Author Info:

Juno Rushdan draws from real-life inspiration as a former U.S. Air Force Intelligence Officer to craft sizzling romantic thrillers. However, you won’t find any classified leaks here. Her stories are pure fiction about kick-ass heroes and strong heroines fighting for their lives as well as their happily-ever-after.

Although Juno is a native New Yorker, wanderlust has taken her across the globe. Fortunately, she is blessed with a husband who shares her passion for travel, movies, and fantastic food. She’s visited more than twenty different countries and has lived in England and Germany. Her favorite destination for relaxation is the Amalfi Coast, Italy for its stunning seascape, cliffside lemon groves, terraced vineyards, amazing pasta, and to-die-for vino.

When she’s not writing, Juno loves spending time with her family. Exercise is not her favorite thing to do, but she squeezes some in since chocolate and red wine aren’t calorie-free.

She currently resides in Virginia with her supportive hubby, two dynamic children, and spoiled rescue dogs. Check her out on Instagram, Facebook or follow her on Twitter or BookBub. She loves to connect with readers!

Website: https://junorushdan.com/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/junorushdan/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/JunoRushdan

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/junorushdan/

*****

Spotlight – Texas Baby Conspiracy

03 Wednesday Nov 2021

Posted by romanticreadsandsuch in Blog Tour, Sneak Peek

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Barb Han, Texas Baby Conspiracy

Texas Baby Conspiracy

by Barb Han

Blurb:

She’s fighting for her and her baby’s lives
But she can’t remember why…

Injured and locked up in a decrepit trailer, Alyssa Hazel wakes to only fragments of memory. She knows she’s pregnant, her life is in danger—and there’s one man she can trust once she escapes. But police officer Blake O’Connor hasn’t forgiven Alyssa for walking away from their marriage. Can he protect her and their unborn child…even when this conspiracy hits too close to home?

Add Texas Baby Conspiracy to your Goodreads!

Buy Texas Baby Conspiracy by Barb Han

Harlequin.com: https://www.harlequin.com/shop/books/9781335555359_texas-baby-conspiracy.html

*****

Excerpt:

When Alyssa Hazel stirred and felt nothing but walls on all four sides of her, shock robbed her voice. Panic caused her pulse to pound and the extra blood thumped against her skull. Her head threatened to split open as she tried to recall where she was and why she was here.

She pushed her hands out, trying to see if the walls would give. The material was pliable but solid enough to hold form. She felt for cracks or anything she could grip. Movement hurt. She attempted to stretch out her legs and couldn’t get very far.

Where was she? What happened? Why was she enclosed in such a tight space? A haze pressed down on her brain and the pressure was the equivalent of a thunderstorm rolling in.

It was pitch black and she couldn’t remember a thing about where she’d been or what she’d been doing before ending up in this…whatever this was. Forcing recall only made her brain hurt more. A stomach cramp drew her legs tighter to her belly.

Wouldn’t there be a door if she was in some kind of compartment? There would have to be a crack around a door or hatch. She reached up and couldn’t find a ceiling. That seemed like the first good sign so far. It meant that she might be in a small closet or storage room.

She felt around, trying to get her bearings because right now she was at a loss as to where she was and what she was doing there. Bringing her hands to cradle her stomach, she knew one thing was certain, she was pregnant. Very pregnant. Her belly was huge.

Again, her mind drew a blank to a question that was so basic she felt like she should have an answer. What on earth was she doing there? She brought her hand up to her head and looked for a reason for the memory loss and headache. She touched a tender spot and felt dried blood.

At least she thought it was. Seeing was impossible despite her eyes adjusting to the dark.

Logic said if she’d gotten inside this structure, there had to be a way out. Bracing her hands against thin walls, she maneuvered up to a sitting position.

Next, she instinctively checked to make sure she had on clothes and then immediately checked for her wedding ring. The band was gone. Thank heavens she had on a cotton shirt and jeans. No shoes but she did have on socks. She remembered wearing her favorite boots. The random memory seemed to float around with no context to ground it. Where had she been going? What had she been doing?

A noise startled her. She froze, unable to make out what it was or exactly where it came from other than out there.

*****

Author Info:

USA TODAY Bestselling Author Barb Han lives in Texas with her adventurous family and beloved dogs. Reviewers have called her books “heartfelt” and “exciting.” When not writing or reading, she can be found exploring Manhattan, on a mountain, or swimming in her backyard.

Website: https://www.barbhan.com/

*****

Review – Maybe We Should

02 Tuesday Nov 2021

Posted by romanticreadsandsuch in Blog Tour, Book Review, Sneak Peek

≈ 1 Comment

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Book Review, Maybe We Should, Melissa Foster, Silver Harbor series

An emotional and sexy novel about guarded hearts, finding love, and families lost and found by Melissa Foster, the New York Times bestselling author of Maybe We Will.

Maybe We Should

Silver Harbor series

by Melissa Foster

Releasing Nov 2nd, 2021

Montlake Romance

Blurb:

After spending years wondering who she was, tattoo artist Cait Weatherby finally found her answers on the sandy shores of Silver Island. With two half sisters she never knew existed, a group of friends she adores, and a devastatingly charming admirer who flirts with her at every turn, she’s ready to figure out her next steps. The trouble is, Cait lives in the shadows of a dark past, and she can’t afford complications that might cause her to lose the family she’s only just found—complications like blue-eyed boatbuilder Brant Remington, who is as open as she is guarded. If only the sexy charmer would take the hint…

Brant is Cait’s opposite in every way, but he’s drawn to everything about the sexy newcomer—from the quiet strength that rivals the caution in her mossy-green eyes to her tough facade that he can’t wait to strip away.

As Brant works his magic, Cait’s walls come down. But as sweet as that feels, Cait knows how quickly good things can turn bad. It’s going to take more than a little trust to beat the ghosts of her past and claim the future they both deserve.

The Silver Harbor series is published by Montlake Romance and will be available in paperback and audio formats at all book retailers, and exclusively in digital format for Kindle and Kindle apps. Download a free Kindle reading app here: http://bit.ly/FreeKindle_App1

Goodreads link: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/57199118-maybe-we-should

Goodreads series link: https://www.goodreads.com/series/297812-silver-harbor

Buy Links:

KINDLE: https://smarturl.it/MWS_Kindle

PAPERBACK: https://smarturl.it/MWS_Pb

FREE IN KINDLE UNLIMITED

Audio book, narrated by Aaron Shedlock and Savannah Peachwood!

AMAZON: https://smarturl.it/MWSa_Amazon

APPLE: https://smarturl.it/MWSa_Apple

AUDIBLE: https://smarturl.it/MWSa_Audible

*****

Excerpt:

Find a sneak peek of Maybe We Should at https://melissafoster.com/maybe-we-should-sneak-peek/

*****

Review:

Brant is pretty much perfect – caring, sweet, understanding, and patient (oh and hot) – which may annoy some (because seriously who is THAT perfect) but honestly the story is really about Cait. And she needs someone that is just that good to support her. She’s had a hard life and had finally found a safe place to land, only to have things shaken up with the discovery of her birth mother. And sisters! Sisters that come with awesome friends and the chance of a different future but only if she’s willing to let go of her past and take a chance.

I really enjoyed Cait’s journey. She was hesitant at first to get involved with Brant but when she does decide to give a relationship with him a try she gives it her all. It’s not immediate, she has to work on it, but with help from Brant, her sisters, and their friends she finds herself opening up and looking toward a future together on Silver Island.

I usually avoid romances that have a character that is not into relationships, mostly because they usually involve more drama than I prefer, but I also know that Foster is really good at what she does. And she once again proves it with Brant and Cait’s story. There’s a lot of emotion but not a lot of tumultuousness. Giving readers all the feels and a satisfying read, without a roller coaster ride to the happy ever after ending.

(While this is technically a stand alone, there are A LOT of characters from previous – and future – books that make an appearance. It may be confusing for some, but Foster does provide a family tree for those that want to see how everyone relates. And maybe figure out what books to add to their TBR pile 🙂 )

*****

Author Info:

Melissa Foster is a NYT, WSJ & USA Today bestselling and award-winning author. She writes sexy and heartwarming contemporary romance and new adult romance with emotionally compelling characters that stay with you long after you turn the last page. Melissa’s emotional journeys are lovingly erotic and always family oriented–perfect beach reads for contemporary romance lovers who enjoy reading about wealthy heroes and smart, sassy heroines.

Website: http://www.melissafoster.com/
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/MelissaFosterAuthor
Twitter: https://twitter.com/Melissa_Foster
GoodReads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/3023973.Melissa_Foster
Newsletter: http://melissafoster.com/newsletter/
BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/melissa-foster
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/melissafoster_author/
TikTok: https://www.tiktok.com/@melissafoster_author

*****

Series Links:

❤️ MAYBE WE WILL (Book 1)

➜KINDLE: https://smarturl.it/MWW_Kindle 

➜PAPERBACK: https://smarturl.it/MWW_Pb 

➜FREE IN KINDLE UNLIMITED

Available in audio! (Narrated by Aiden Snow and Jennifer Mack)

➜AMAZON: https://smarturl.it/MWWa_Amazon 

➜AUDIBLE: https://smarturl.it/MWWa_Audible

❤️ MAYBE WE WON’T (Book 3) – Rel April 26, 2022

➜KINDLE: https://smarturl.it/MWW-Kindle

➜PAPERBACK: https://smarturl.it/MWW-Pb

➜FREE IN KINDLE UNLIMITED

*Audio coming soon

Spotlight – More Than Enough

01 Monday Nov 2021

Posted by romanticreadsandsuch in Blog Tour, Sneak Peek

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A Fling to Love Romance, Blue Collar romance series, Moni Boyce, More Than Enough

When recently divorced Lexi Campbell walks into Ezra Benedict’s life, all bets are off. Lexi might be out of his league, but when she hires Ezra for a job, he can’t fight the pull between them. Fall for this hard-working hottie in More Than Enough by Moni Boyce, a Fling into Romance, the final book in the Blue Collar Romance Series.

More Than Enough

A Fling to Love Romance

Blue Collar Romance Series

by Moni Boyce

Blurb:

From Moni Boyce comes a fling to forever romance packed with redemption, heat and happily ever after.

Her whole life, Lexie Campbell has played by the rules and lived up to everyone else’s expectations, never once stepping out of her comfort zone or putting her needs or wants first.

Divorced and ready for a little excitement in her life, she makes a playful bet to kiss the next guy who walks into the bar where she’s out on the town with her girlfriends. She wasn’t expecting that guy to be bad boy Erza Benedict himself.

Ezra has a reputation. Growing up on the wrong side of the tracks, he’s never been able to outrun his troublesome past no matter how hard he works to redeem himself.

As far as relationships go? Lexie is so far out of his league, but that doesn’t stop him from wanting more than one kiss or a one-night stand.

When Lexie comes back into his life by grand design and hires him to landscape the homes she has listed on the market, Ezra knows this is his shot. Unlike their one night together before, Ezra won’t settle for hiding their relationship for long.

Together they’ll have to learn to forget everyone else’s expectations and live (and love) for themselves.

Welcome to Oak Bend, where these blue-collar hotties work hard and love even harder, especially when it comes to landing their happily ever after.

Add to Goodreads!

Read Now!

*****

Excerpt:

I called Ox. “Change of plans. Bender’s isn’t going to work…” I floundered on an alternative. Ox was really hoping to celebrate. It took a second, but I remembered The Rox. A little upscale for my taste, but it would have to do for tonight. “Meet me at The Rox.”

I was already heading towards my truck. “And don’t laugh. I already know what you’re thinking. You’re the one who wants to celebrate, so beggars can’t be choosy.” I ended the call.

It was a short drive to reach the nightclub. The parking lot was packed, but I managed to find a space. As I walked towards the entrance, I hoped the place didn’t have a dress code. I’d cleaned up from earlier, but I was still rockin’ just jeans and a t-shirt.

When I stepped through the door, I was about to look around for a spot to hole up and wait for Ox, when some woman grabbed my face and crushed her lips against mine. I was about to pull away, but shit, if those weren’t the softest, sweetest lips I’d ever tasted. I shut my eyes and went with it. Whoever she was, she was hard and soft in all the right places, and the woman could kiss. She may have started things, but it wasn’t too long before I mastered her. My tongue swept in to explore the sweetness of her mouth. She tasted of lime and salt.

Catcalls and whistles broke us apart. She pulled away before I did. When I laid eyes on who my kisser was, I was stunned. Lexie fucking Campbell? What had gotten into her? Miss Goodie Two Shoes herself. In high school, we hadn’t run in the same circles. She’d been unattainable: respected and well-to-do parents, head cheerleader, student body president, girlfriend to Daniel the Dickwad, captain of the football team. Every guy wanted to fuck her, including me.

For a moment she seemed to sober when she looked at me. Realization shown in her eyes. Just as quickly, she doused the flicker of sobriety, and licked her lips in a sexy, suggestive manner. I was sure she knew who I was, but she didn’t acknowledge it.

Lexie looked over her shoulder at the bar, still a bit unsure, despite the kiss she’d laid on me.

Over her shoulder, I glanced in that direction. Two women stared at us, and I remembered the girls they used to be. Lexie’s girlfriends. In high school you rarely saw one without the others. The one with the short hair glared at me.

“Your friends?” Needing something to say, I asked the question, even though I already knew the answer.

Lexie whipped back around to face me. It was clear the alcohol was her liquid courage. Nice girls like her didn’t pull stunts like that.

Suspicion clawed its way into my brain. I narrowed my eyes at her, wondering if this was part of some prank, joke or dare. Well, if it was, I was calling her bluff. I wasn’t gonna let her back down. Stepping closer, I put my arm around her waist and pulled her into my body. Her swift intake of breath was followed by her tilting her head back to look up at me.

My gaze roamed over her face, taking in those beautiful, luscious brown eyes, her warm brown skin, and the beauty mark that sat at the curve of her top lip. The mess of curls that framed her face made me ache to feel the texture, but I knew better than to put my hands in her hair.

For a second, I lingered over her plump lips, remembering how they’d felt pressed against mine.

I wanted more of her.

My gaze snapped back up to meet hers, daring her to chicken out. This was a dangerous game she’d started, and I intended to finish it.

Her body trembled slightly. I half expected her to flee back to her friends. Lexie swallowed and licked her bottom lip. “Let’s grab a drink.”

*****

Author Info:

Moni Boyce is a USA Today Bestselling author of contemporary and paranormal romance, a filmmaker and a poet. After working in the film industry for fifteen years, helping others bring their visions to life, she now creates characters and worlds of her own. She considers herself a bookworm, film buff, foodie, music lover and an avid world traveler having visited 34 countries and counting. She currently lives in Virginia but considers Los Angeles her hometown.

*****

About The Blue Collar Romance Series

Escape to Oak Bend where blue-collar hotties work hard and love even harder.

From broody carpenters to sexy electricians, these eight standalones are packed with small town feels, heat, and heartwarming happily ever afters.

Enjoy your favorite tropes written by an amazing group of authors: Jaymee Jacobs, Alexa Rivers, Evelyn Sola, Kate Carley, Tracy Broemmer, Mila Nicks, Claire Wilder, and Moni Boyce.

Fall head over heels for swoon-worthy book boyfriends who aren’t afraid of a little hard work for that happily ever after.

This promotional event is brought to you by Indie Pen PR

Review – The Cowboy’s Christmas Retreat

29 Friday Oct 2021

Posted by romanticreadsandsuch in Blog Tour, Book Review, Contest, Sneak Peek

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Book Review, Catherine Mann, The Cowboy's Christmas Retreat, Top Dog Dude Ranch series

The Cowboy’s Christmas Retreat

Top Dog Dude Ranch #2

by Catherine Mann

Genre: Contemporary Romance

Release Date: November 1, 2021

Blurb:

After they’ve opened gifts, maybe he’ll unwrap her heart…

Instead of his winter wonderland wedding, Riley Stewart has been jilted. This rodeo champ needs an understanding shoulder, so Riley invites his best friend, Lucy Snyder, her son and their scruffy pooch on his “honeymoon.” But moonlit doggy walks, romantic fires, the glow of Christmas lights—everything is conspiring against their “just friends” resolve. Will this fake honeymoon ignite the real spark Riley and Lucy have denied for so long?

– Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/57578460-the-cowboy-s-christmas-retreat

– Bookbub: https://www.bookbub.com/books/the-cowboy-s-christmas-retreat-by-catherine-mann

– Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Cowboys-Christmas-Retreat-Dude-Ranch-ebook/dp/B0917KWT3D/

– B&N: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-cowboys-christmas-retreat-catherine-mann/1139117260?ean=9780369710383

– Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/ebook/the-cowboy-s-christmas-retreat

– Google Play: https://play.google.com/store/books/details/Catherine_Mann_The_Cowboy_s_Christmas_Retreat?id=wRMmEAAAQBAJ

– Apple: https://books.apple.com/us/book/the-cowboys-christmas-retreat/id1560476739?l=en

– Books a Million: https://www.booksamillion.com/product/9781335408204/

*****

Welcome to Moonlight Ridge, Tennessee, home to the Top Dog Dude Ranch, renowned for family-friendly rustic retreats that heal broken hearts. Some say it’s the majestic mountain vistas. Others vow there’s magic in the hot springs. All agree, there’s something special about the four-legged creatures at the Top Dog Dude Ranch that give guests a “new leash on love.”

First book in the series:

Last-Chance Marriage Rescue (Top Dog Dude Ranch #1) by Catherine Mann

“They’re about to step into a parent trap of their twins’ making!”

– Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/58844340-last-chance-marriage-rescue

– Bookbub: https://www.bookbub.com/books/last-chance-marriage-rescue-by-catherine-mann

– Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Last-Chance-Marriage-Rescue-Dude-Ranch-ebook/dp/B09166FG85

– B&N: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/last-chance-marriage-rescue-catherine-mann/1139113839?ean=9780369710215

– Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/ebook/last-chance-marriage-rescue

– Apple: https://books.apple.com/us/book/last-chance-marriage-rescue/id1560330274?l=en

– Google Play: https://play.google.com/store/books/details/Last_Chance_Marriage_Rescue?id=N5UrEAAAQBAJ&hl=en&gl=US

– Books a Million: https://www.booksamillion.com/product/9781335408075/

*****

Excerpt:

Her gaze shot up from the screen to look at him and she could have sworn an awareness crackled between them.

Surely only because they were both alone, treated poorly by someone who’d vowed to love them forever. As she knew all too well from her ugly breakup, the last thing he needed was anything muddling the recovery.

“No worries, Riley assured her, as if reading her thoughts, those brown eyes of his wise and knowing. “The ranch is family friendly and friend friendly, not just romance. And we are friends, Lucy. You’re my best friend.”

“And you’re mine.” She sighed, sagging back onto her heels just as Pickles curled up to sleep beside her. “So, say we’re discussing – just discussing – the possibility of me coming with you to spend Christmas at the Top Dog Dude Ranch. It seems unfair to take the trip without contributing. But I can hardly afford a trip to the corner store, much less a two-week vacation. And there’s missing work…”

A poor excuse at best, since most of the clients for her dog walking business we teachers who would be on Christmas break. She could see that he knew her excuse was thin.

She tried again, unsure why she was resisting when she’d taken so much help from him in the past. Lucy clasped her wrist over where he’d rubbed with his thumb…

*****

Review:

Riley and Lucy have been friends forever, supporting each other through life’s ups and downs. A kiss in high school hinted at the possibility of something more but the timing wasn’t right. Now, for the first time, they are in the same place and single at the same time. While they may tell everyone that there is nothing romantic between them, some long buried feelings are starting to surface. And spending time together at a romantic getaway, even with a small chaperone, is only making things more complicated.

Neither Riley nor Lucy has had the greatest history, and trusting in their emotions is hard, so taking a chance on losing a friendship that means so much to both of them is scary. But I felt like Mann does a good job of having them work through their feelings, understanding the seriousness of risking what they have for something more, and making sure that their attraction is real.

Blending together tender moments, holiday charm, and just a smidge of spice to heat things up a bit, Mann’s latest is the perfect read for those looking for a feel-good story to curl up with and while away a few hours. A delightful mix of friends-to-lovers and Christmas enchantment, it’ll leave you happy and satisfied, maybe even wanting a little more of the magic the Top Dog Dude Ranch can bring.

*****

Author Info:

USA Today bestseller Catherine Mann writes contemporary romance for Harlequin, Tule, Berkley, and Sourcebooks. With over seventy-five books released in more than twenty countries, she has won a RITA Award, the Romantic Times Magazine Reviewer’s Choice Award, and the Bookseller’s Best Award. She’s also celebrated six RITA finals, an RT Reviewer’s Award finalist, three Maggie Award of Excellence finals and a Bookseller’s Best win. After years moving around the country bringing up four children, Catherine has settled back in her home state of South Carolina where she lives with her husband. The nest didn’t stay empty long though as they are both active in animal rescue. Catherine enjoys hearing from her readers and can be found online frequently on Facebook. She can also be reached via mail at: PO Box 290762, Columbia SC 29229. (For a free bookmark, send a self-addressed, stamped envelope.)

– Website: https://www.catherinemann.com/

– Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/CatherineMannAuthor

– Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/catherinemannauthor/

– Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/catherinemann/top-dog-dude-ranch/

– Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/93454.Catherine_Mann

– Newsletter: https://www.catherinemann.com/newsletter/

*****

Giveaway:

There is a tour wide giveaway for the blog tour of The Cowboy’s Christmas Retreat. Three winners win a copy of Last Chance Marriage Rescue (Top Dog #1) with a PAW-tograph (autograph) from the author’s dog Biscuit. – US Only.

http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/1000e4f1386/

*****

This blog tour is organized by Lola’s Blog Tours and the tour runs from 26 October till 8 November. You can see the tour schedule here: http://www.lolasblogtours.net/blog-tour-the-cowboys-christmas-retreat-by-catherine-mann

Spotlight – Mountain Fugitive

28 Thursday Oct 2021

Posted by romanticreadsandsuch in Blog Tour, Sneak Peek

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Lynette Eason, Mountain Fugitive

Mountain Fugitive

by Lynette Eason

Blurb:

Their search for a fugitive …

makes them both targets.

Out horseback riding, Dr. Katherine Gilroy accidentally stumbles into a deadly shoot-out and comes to US marshal Dominic O’Ryan’s aid. Now with Dominic injured and under her care, she’s determined to help him find her brother—the fugitive he believes murdered his partner. While Katherine’s sure her brother isn’t guilty, someone’s dead set on killing her and Dominic…and finding the truth is their one shot at survival.

Add Mountain Fugitive to your Goodreads!

Buy Mountain Fugitive by Lynette Eason

Harlequin.com: https://www.harlequin.com/shop/books/9781335735850_mountain-fugitive.html

*****

Excerpt:

Heart pounding a rapid beat, Katherine pulled Hotshot to a stop between the men and the direction the bullets had come from, praying the person wouldn’t shoot the horse. She slid from the saddle, leaving the reins trailing the ground, then snagged the first-aid kit from the saddlebag. US marshals according to the vests the men wore.

Looked like their prisoner or fugitive had turned the tables on them. Which meant the person was either gone now that he’d taken care of the threat—or she was now a target because she planned to try to help the men. A quick scan of the area didn’t reveal anything unusual or worrisome, but the trees could easily be hiding the sniper.

Still using the horse as a shield, she hurried to the man closest to her. The bullet had hit him just above his left ear and he’d landed on his side. His brown, sightless eyes stared up at her and she knew he was beyond help. She checked his pulse anyway and got what she expected. Nothing.

She closed the dead man’s eyes then turned her attention to the other one. A pulse. She focused on his head. A gash just below his hairline bled freely. A low groan rumbled from him and Katherine placed a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t move,” she said.

He blinked and she caught a glimpse of sapphire-blue eyes. He let out another groan. “Carl…”

“Just stay still and let me look at your head.”

“I’m fine.” He rolled to his side and he squinted up at her. “Who’re you?”

“I’m Dr. Katherine Gilroy so I think I’m the better judge of whether or not you’re fine. You have a head wound which means possible concussion.” She reached for him. “What’s your name?”

He pushed her hand away. “Dominic O’Ryan. A branch caught me. Knocked me loopy for a few seconds, but not out. We were running from the shooter.” His eyes sharpened. “He’s still out there.” His hand went to his right hip, gripping the empty holster next to the badge on his belt. A star within a circle.

“Where’s my gun? Where’s Carl? My partner, Carl Manning. We need to get out of here.”

“I’m sorry,” Katherine said, her voice soft. “He didn’t make it.”

He froze. Then horror sent his eyes wide—and searching. They found the man behind her and Dominic shuddered. “No. No, no, no. Carl! Carl!” He army crawled to his partner and sucked in a gasping breath, cupped Carl’s face and felt for a pulse.

Katherine didn’t bother to tell him she’d already done the same—or what he’d find. After a few seconds, he let out a low cry then sucked in another deep breath and composed his features. The intense moment has lasted only a few seconds, but Katherine knew he was compartmentalizing, stuffing his emotions into a place he could hold them and deal with them later.

She knew because she’d often done the same thing. Still did on occasion.

In spite of that, his grief was palpable, and Katherine’s heart thudded with sympathy for him. She moved back to give him some privacy, her eyes sweeping the hills around them once more. Again, she saw nothing, but the hairs on the back of her neck were standing straight up. Hotshot had done well, standing still, being a buffer between them and a possible sniper, but Katherine’s nerves were twitching—much like when she’d worked with the police department. “I think we need to find some better cover.”

As if to prove her point, another crack sounded, and Hotshot reared. His whinnying scream echoed around them. Then he bolted for home. Katherine grabbed the first-aid kit with one hand and pulled Dominic to his feet with the other. “Run!”

*****

Author Info:

Lynette Eason lives in Simpsonville, SC with her husband and two children. She is an award-winning, best-selling author who spends her days writing when she’s not traveling around the country teaching at writing conferences. Lynette enjoys visits to the mountains, hanging out with family and brainstorming stories with her fellow writers. You can visit Lynette’s website to find out more at http://www.lynetteeason.com or like her Facebook page at http://www.facebook.com/lynette.eason

Website: https://lynetteeason.com/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/lynette.eason

Twitter: https://twitter.com/lynetteeason

*****

Spotlight – Colton K-9 Target

27 Wednesday Oct 2021

Posted by romanticreadsandsuch in Blog Tour, Sneak Peek

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Colton K-9 Target, Coltons of Grave Gulch, Justine David

Colton K-9 Target

Coltons of Grave Gulch

by Justine Davis

Blurb:

Man’s best friend

…is this cop’s most trusted partner

New to the Grave Gulch Police Department, K-9 detective Brett Shea feels like an outsider among its many Coltons. Even Annalise, his dog’s trainer, is a Colton! But when she’s attacked by a man pretending to be her date, Brett vows to track down the criminal. Though he’s sworn off forever love—which is proving harder by the day—Brett will protect her at any cost.

Add Colton K-9 Target to your Goodreads!

Buy Colton K-9 Target by Justine Davis

Harlequin.com: https://www.harlequin.com/shop/books/9781335759382_colton-k-9-target.html

*****

Excerpt:

Annalise stared into the darkness, hoping that forcing herself to keep her eyes open would perversely trigger the overwhelming urge to sleep. It was her last resort; she’d been lying here for two hours, unable to find a way to turn off, or at least slow down, her whirling thoughts.

And the fact that a few minutes ago Brett had come to her open doorway and lingered a moment didn’t help.

She’d heard the faint creak of a floorboard and felt a spike of that adrenaline rush before she realized it was him. That realization caused a spike of an entirely different kind until she heard him walk away and realized he’d only been checking on her.

What did you expect? That he’d climb into bed with you?

She rolled over and buried her face in her pillow, wondering why these wild thoughts kept careening into her mind. What kind of woman was she, to have been so very excited about her date tonight—never mind that it had all been a scam—yet almost simultaneously so attracted to this man who had no interest at all in her that way? Or in anything like the kind of relationship she was looking for?

I’m not looking for what you’re looking for.

He meant it. She didn’t doubt that. And she knew she should consider it fair warning. A warning some men would never bother to give. Why had he? She felt her cheeks heat at the thought that maybe he knew, how she reacted to him. Maybe she’d betrayed it somehow. That would be embarrassing. They’d always gotten on well in the joint training sessions with Ember, but her focus had been on the smart, willing dog, not on him.

Well, not any more than usual. Qualified, capable K-9 officers with a record like his weren’t thick on the ground, and he’d proven that rep well-earned in their first exercises together. That he was quietly competent and apparently unaware of his own looks were big points in his favor, in her book.

She’d assumed at first he was married, because how could he not be? He didn’t wear a ring, but some men didn’t. Then Troy had told her a week later he wasn’t and had never been.

You have to believe in love before you can give up on it.

She sighed into the darkness. That just might be the saddest thing she’d ever heard. Yet he didn’t seem sad to her. Or bitter. Just…closed off. Except with Ember. That alone told Annalise that he wasn’t completely closed off.

But that didn’t mean she should be lying here thinking about him.

And about what she would have done if he had climbed into bed with her.

“I can drive myself—”

“I know you can,” Brett said patiently to Annalise the next morning, “but I have to drop Ember off anyway.” He didn’t mention that he also didn’t want her taking off to go get lunch or something. He wanted her under observation at all times, and he’d already called Sergeant Kenwood to let him know to keep an eye on her; the man might be retired from active duty, but his instincts were as sharp as ever.

“But I’ll need my car to get home.”

“I’ll pick you up when I come get her,” he said, with a scratch of the Lab’s soft ears. “After I talk to the two other women this jerk targeted.”

“I want to take Apple and Jack,” she said. “I don’t want to leave them alone. They were scared, too.”

And that was Annalise Colton in a nutshell, he thought. “Fine. There’s room. And Ember won’t mind.”

And so he ended up with a carload of three dogs and the woman adored by them all.

Including you?

He yanked his mind off that fruitless path. He drove, trying to concentrate on mentally organizing his day.

*****

Author Info:

Justine Davis lives on Puget Sound in Washington State, watching big ships and the occasional submarine go by, and sharing the neighborhood with assorted wildlife, including a pair of bald eagles, deer, a bear or two, and a tailless raccoon. In the few hours when she’s not planning, plotting, or writing her next book, her favorite things are photography, knitting her way through a huge yarn stash, and driving her restored 1967 Corvette roadster—top down, of course.

Website: https://justinedavis.com/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/JustineDareDavis

Twitter: https://twitter.com/Justine_D_Davis

*****

Spotlight – Claiming His Christmas Inheritance

26 Tuesday Oct 2021

Posted by romanticreadsandsuch in Blog Tour, Sneak Peek

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by C.J. Carroll, Claiming His Christmas Inheritance

Claiming His Christmas Inheritance

by C.J. Carroll

Blurb:

Some inheritances have strings attached.

This one requires him to get married…

In her last matchmaking attempt, Zed Evans’s late aunt stipulated he must find a wife—or lose his childhood home. Fortunately, the resolute bachelor needs to be married for only three months. Now he just has to convince Tasha Jenkins to be his holiday wife in exchange for funds to get her dream business started. It’s the perfect plan…until love makes an unexpected appearance.

Add Claiming His Christmas Inheritance to your Goodreads!

Buy Claiming His Christmas Inheritance by C.J. Carroll

Harlequin.com: https://www.harlequin.com/shop/books/9781335758903_claiming-his-christmas-inheritance.html

*****

Excerpt:

Tasha Jenkins’s heart fluttered wildly, like the tiny wings of a baby bird. She squeezed her eyelids shut. “You can do it, girl. You got this.”

It’s my first Christmas alone in the world.

Her eyes flickered open, and she stared at the familiar purple Victorian in front of her. A salmon-stained sky, dotted with wispy, cotton-ball clouds, provided a splendid backdrop to the spectacular structure.

Every Christmas since Tasha was eight, she and her single mother had visited the historic Avenue Parkway neighborhood of Vista Peak, Colorado. They loved to admire the turn-of-the-twentieth-century homes’ holiday decorations.

Although it wasn’t the fanciest or most ornately decorated house in the neighborhood, the purple Victorian was their favorite. Its charming amenities, unusual color and the sense of home and family it evoked for them contributed to the special feeling they both had about the place.

But this time there was an empty spot beside her where her mom used to stand, clasping her hand.

Tasha admired the house’s wraparound porch, decorative turret and scalloped shingles. Her gaze roamed lovingly over the carved columns, spindles, ornate molding and lavender trim. Three massive evergreens, lightly dusted with snow, surrounded the house like stoic sentinels.

A large white wreath hung on the front door. Multicolored ornaments filled several oversize vintage lanterns on the porch. Giant red-and-green peppermints on sticks, a nativity scene and a miniature Christmas village were displayed in the yard.

She bit her lip and peered heavenward. Lord, I miss my mom. She was my North Star. Sorrow at the unfairness of her mother’s untimely death, after a hard life, threatened to consume her. Can You hear me, Lord? Do You really care? Grief shredded her heart. A vehicle door abruptly slammed behind her, and Tasha turned to discover a tall, brown-skinned man exiting a silver Ford F-150 truck.

She quickly wiped away rogue tears.

“Miss, are you okay?” The inherent kindness gleaming from his eyes nearly did her in.

“Yeah. I will be,” she said.

Narrowly built, but muscular and defined, the man appeared well over six feet tall. While his crisp white shirt, a forest green-and-red plaid sweater-vest, gold bow tie, black pants and vintage wingtip shoes he wore harkened to another era, the stranger appeared to be around her age—in his mid to late thirties.

“Quite a beauty,” he said.

Shocked at his full-frontal approach, Tasha blushed at the compliment. She was grateful her cinnamon-brown skin hid physical signs of embarrassment—especially when she realized he was looking past her.

Oh my, he meant the house, not me. Tasha quickly recovered. “That it is,” she replied as if she understood his intent all along.

He scrutinized her. Understanding lit his features, and he grinned. “You thought I was complimenting you.”

She winced. She’d never mastered keeping a neutral face. “Guilty as charged.”

A deep-throated, hardy chuckle escaped his lips. Irises the color of sunlight shimmering through honey observed her. “Wait one moment while I uninsert my foot from my mouth.”

She raised her hand in protest. “No worries.”

“You know, the compliment most definitely works both ways.” His eyes grazed her face like a gentle breeze caressing a flower.

Tasha willed her heart to continue to beat normally. Oh, the brotha’s got game. Slow your roll, playa-playa. Your charm won’t work on me. Even if you are as fine as Mr. Michael B. Jordan, Mr. Bradley Cooper and Mr. Idris Elba combined. With a cherry on top.

Nevertheless, she had to acknowledge his kudos was nice. “Thank you,” she replied.

*****

Author Info:

An admittedly hopeless romantic, C.J. Carroll first started telling love stories as a child, with her 60-plus Barbie/Ken doll collection. Her goal is to write stories that are faith-filled,funny, flirty and fresh. She hopes that her stories entertain and uplift, and that her readers feel the loving touch of God’s hand.

*****