Spotlight – Waiting For You

16 Thursday Jun 2016

Posted by romanticreadsandsuch in Blog Tour, Contest, Sneak Peek

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Thought it was time we hooked up with a sexy Navy SEAL again … and Adam is proving to be oh-so-very tempting! Danger and a hottie, perfect for a summer read.

*****

Waiting For You

by Melissa Kate

Contemporary Romance

Fiery Seas Publishing, LLC

May 24, 2016

Blurb:

Audrey Kelly finds her way back home to Crystal Valley with her bruised pride and a shattered dangerous past mocking her rear view mirror. What she didn’t expect was to be face-to-face with Adam Parker, resident bad boy, sexy Navy SEAL and one of the reasons that Audrey ran all those years ago.

Audrey was the last person Adam had ever expected to see back in Crystal Valley. Over a decade ago, they shared a sizzling night together before he received the worst news of his life and he hasn’t seen her since…until she’d moved back unexpectedly. She was no longer the sweet innocent girl he once remembered, but Adam has his own problems without having to deal with Audrey’s ice princess recital, no matter how tempting the auburn haired seductress may be.

Sparks begin to ignite between them but can they accept Audrey’s past when it threatens to engage them in a dangerous twist? Can they save each other from themselves and stop running once and for all?

Book Trailer: https://youtu.be/1XpOSaEHMI8

*****

Excerpt:

Audrey Kelly cruised down the main highway in her little Audi TT heading straight into Crystal Valley. A familiar maelstrom of emotions crept in. The gnawing in her chest overpowered only slightly by the urge to turn tail and drive in the opposite direction. She pushed a button and the window automatically rolled down with a soft hum, letting in the warm, California air. She breathed in deeply, inhaling the fresh salty breeze, taking her back to her childhood. Splashing in the ocean, lying on the warm beach to dry off, ice cream cones and pizza parties. Days of innocent abandon. It was also the days of bitter disappointment and regret.

She squelched those feelings as she turned on to Crystal Valley exit. Good old small town USA. Audrey felt the tightening in her gut, the familiar noose around her neck that came with small town living. The stifling claustrophobia trying to claw its way out. She hadn’t been back in fourteen years, well except for the few days six years ago… and even that was a memory tightly locked away. The day high school graduation had rolled around, she had hightailed it out of here so fast she was surprised her coat tails hadn’t caught fire. Audrey had wanted to amount to more than just a clerk in the local store or a hairdresser at the corner salon. There was more to it than just that, more that she didn’t want to recall. She had set her sights on a high profile life. She had wanted to create a name for herself – a legacy to leave behind. And she did.

Audrey turned onto the street where she lived as a child. Grandpa Joe’s house. She smiled up at the familiar building. The two story, cottage- style house eased the anxiety that had been growing with each mile she drove closer to home. She parked in the gravel driveway and took in the house that had been her haven for most of her formative years. The black shutters on the large windows gave the home a real country feel. The wrap-around porch along the left of the house remained exactly as she recalled, even with the small swing seat where she and her grandma had spent many evenings together, regaling each other with made up stories. The garden surrounding the base of the house was still trenched but did not have even a fraction of the blooms that her beloved grandma had maintained year round. Audrey’s chest pinched and she buried the emotion. Just another one to file away, she thought wryly.

*****

Author Info:

Melissa Kate is a new author who lives in a small town along the coast in sunny South Africa. She writes for the pleasure of living in a new story and all the quirks and crazies that go with each character. A true romantic at heart, she loves the moment of falling in love. Her pet Beagle and maniacal lovebird keep her company while writing and often inspire senseless moments in her stories.

When she’s not furiously typing away on her laptop, Melissa can be found cooking or baking up a storm. Even she has to admit, she’s a pretty awesome chef. She has a small addiction with shoes which she attributes to her petite stature or as she likes to call it “Short girl problems”.

She balances her day job and conjuring up new romantic tales with a local personal blog with arb ramblings about her life in Durban. She’s been writing for years now, any bits that she can and she can’t wait to share that with you!

http://www.melissakatebooks.com/

https://twitter.com/MelissaKate_1

https://www.facebook.com/melissakatebooks

*****

Giveaway:

5 ebook copies

2 print copies (US only)

http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/ba112ffc1355/

*****

Click on the banner below to check out the rest of the tour

Book Review – The Trouble with Temptation

15 Wednesday Jun 2016

Posted by romanticreadsandsuch in Book Review

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Book Review, Shiloh Walker, The Trouble with Temptation

The Trouble with Temptation

by Shiloh Walker

Love is the greatest risk of all.

After seven days in a coma, Hannah Parker remembers nothing about the accident that landed her in the hospital—or how she ended up pregnant with Brannon’s baby, the man she’s loved since high school. Her body and heart have burned for him for years, and when she wakes up, he’s sleeping by her bedside, anxious to keep her safe at all costs. But as Hannah struggles with her amnesia, a threat looms closer—one that could have deadly consequences if she recovers her memories. She will have to trust Brannon completely if she is to keep what haunts her at bay…and their baby safe….

Brannon McKay spent the last ten years fantasizing about Hannah. In his mind, he’s explored every passionate scenario he can think of while, in real life, Brannon took their budding relationship and threw it away with both hands. Hannah doesn’t remember what happened but now that she is awake, Brannon would rather die than watch her walk away again. When Hannah and his unborn child’s lives are threatened, Brannon must stake claim to the woman who has held his heart captive for years…or risk disaster tearing them apart…

This is one of those times when not reading the first book in a series might have been a detriment. Walker does a good job of filling readers in on the pertinent details of what happened but I think that there are some nuances that are missed. Actually, I have no idea how much of an overflow there is between the two, I’m just guessing based on how much of book 2 I think will impact book 3 and how much I felt like I was missing having only read this book. And I’m warning you now that not everything is wrapped up nicely – it is going to be a requirement to read the next book in order to continue some of the plot lines. There’s an unsolved mystery as well as the next romance, which has already been introduced.

The relationship between Hannah and Brannon is addressed completely, though, and very enjoyably. We start the book with Brannon finding out about Hannah’s accident and his realization of how much she means to him. But her amnesia, and the possibility that someone wants her dead, leaves him with a whole mess of complications. And as someone who doesn’t do relationships he’s not really set-up to handle it well 🙂 The threat to Hannah takes up a good portion of the story (and, again, it isn’t resolved so be prepared to read more than this book) but Walker doesn’t ignore their romantic troubles. All of it is blended together very well and none of it feels short-changed.

The mystery is vague, with Walker giving you just enough to have you guessing. And since it is unsolved you do feel a little lost at the end as you wait for the next story. But because we get Gideon & Moira’s voices here with a look into their history, that’s going to bring you back for The Right Kind of Trouble as much as finding out who the bad guy is. Wow, those two have a lot of hurts to handle 🙂

Guest Post – Buried in the Stars

14 Tuesday Jun 2016

Posted by romanticreadsandsuch in Blog Tour, Sneak Peek

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Buried in the Stars, Gretchen Tubbs

I’m so pleased that Gretchen Tubbs stopped by today to share a little about herself and her new book, Buried in the Stars. I have to say that after reading the sneak peek she brought for us I’m super intrigued and maybe already a little in love with Sutton 🙂

*****

*What do you like best about writing romances?

I love making up stories. Anytime I see people interacting, I try to figure out their ‘stories’. My husband fusses at me for being so nosy. In fact, I never had any intentions of writing, but one morning on the way to work I saw a couple fighting in a parking lot and I couldn’t get the scene out of my head. Six months later, More Than Ever, my first book, was written. I surprised the hell out of myself!

*What is your favorite romantic story (movie/book, fact/fiction, whatever you love most)?

I’ve always loved Gone with the Wind. I used to read the book and watch the movie at least once a year when I was a kid. Now, my favorite book, and the one I always reread when I’m in a book slump, is At Peace by Kristen Ashley. There’s just something about Joe Callahan…

*If you could be any romantic character, who would it be and why?

I would love to live in any Kristen Ashley book. Sure, kidnappings and shootings occur, but her heroes are the best!

*Which of your characters/books was the most fun to write?

I loved writing Buried in the Stars. The book starts when the characters are younger, so it was nice to see the relationships between the three main characters mature and change over time. I would love to write more stories like that.

*If you weren’t a writer and could be anything you want, what would it be?

I’m a teacher by day, but hope to be a full-time writer eventually. I did contemplate going to nursing school before I started writing, but one of my sisters, who is a nurse, talked me out of it. I went to Graduate school instead and got a Master’s Degree in Curriculum and Instruction.

*****

Buried in the Stars

by Gretchen Tubbs

Blurb:

I had nothing until I met the Winters Family. Vera Winters and her husband Doc took me in as one of their own, providing a safe haven from my abusive and alcoholic mother. Their two sons became my constant companions and best friends during the lowest points of my life.

Sutton, with his love of the stars and his need to constantly rescue me.

Easton, fiercely protective and loyal.

I loved them both, as they loved me.

But only one of them would have the power to completely break me.

In the end I would have to choose between them – and disrupt the perfect family who had so generously welcomed me into their lives.

Did I choose the one I might never trust again, or the one who loved me more than I could ever love him in return?

*****

Excerpt:

“Tell me a story,” I say without turning from the wall. I know it’s Sutton that’s climbing into the old treehouse without having to check. No one else comes up here anymore.

“Only if you tell me what happened first.”

I focus on a knot in one of the wooden slats instead. I don’t want to talk about my mother. She didn’t lay a hand on me earlier today. Her physical blows haven’t been as frequent, but her verbal lashings have been much harder to deal with.

“She didn’t touch me, Sutton, if that’s what you’re getting at.”

The heat from the front of his body wraps around my back and a sense of calm washes over me. “Emily called,” he says, his warm breath hitting my shoulder. “She heard the two of you shouting from her yard.” He pushes closer and winds his arm around my waist, brushing his lips across the cluster of freckles on the top of my arm that he’s always tracing. He’s been a lot more physical this last year, ever since that almost kiss in his bedroom. Nothing like that has happened again, but that doesn’t mean I don’t think about it.

I do, every single second I’m with him.

“Please, Sutton,” I beg through the lump in my throat. “I don’t want to talk about her. Distract me.”

He comes to my front and reaches out for my hand. I don’t want to leave. When I’m hiding here, I don’t have to think about anything else. I can pretend that everything in my life is fine. I can be a normal thirteen year old.

“Let me tell you about the stars.”

“The stars?”

His smile grows and he nods. “Will you come on the roof with me?”

My eyes must double in size. “I wouldn’t take you up there if it wasn’t safe, Scarlett,” he continues. “My dad built this thing to last. You know how he is. Nothing is going to happen.”

I watch, equally shocked and scared, as he hoists himself out the small window and reaches toward the roof. After rooting around for a few seconds, a rope ladder falls into sight.

“Ready?”

“Umm, I guess.” I’m not exactly scared of heights, but climbing on a roof isn’t high on my list of things to do.

“You go first, Scarlett. I won’t let you fall. I would never let anything happen to you.”

I trust Sutton. I’ve trusted him since he found me huddled next to that tree, banged up, crying, and scared, the first time I ever laid eyes on him. I put on my proverbial big girl panties and place one shaky hand on the rope ladder. A few tugs reassure me that it’s not going to detach from the roof as soon as I put my full weight on it, so I pull in a few big breaths and go for it. As soon as there’s room, Sutton is right behind me. We don’t have to climb far to reach our destination. He nudges me to the middle of the roof. I don’t quite crawl, but I don’t walk upright to reach the center like he does. There’s only a slight slope to it, but that doesn’t mean I’m wild about hanging out up here.

“Lie back and just breathe for a few minutes. Relax and clear your mind.” I get settled against his shoulder and let the warm breeze flow over my body, willing it to take away all the ugly I endured tonight. I listen to the calming beats of Sutton’s heart, and soon my own heart’s rhythm starts to mimic his.

“Open your eyes and tell me what you see,” he whispers.

“Stars.”

His mouth curves into a smile at the top of my head. “You say that like it’s so simple.”

“Well, that’s what I see.”

“Those stars map out the night sky. They’re like cities or landmarks, helping astronomers figure out how other objects travel through space. Each constellation tells a story. There are eighty-eight named ones, but the thirteen Zodiac constellations are the most important.”

“I’ve heard about them, but I’ve never been able to see them. I can’t even find the Big Dipper. I don’t know what I’m looking at.”

His soft laughter vibrates through me. “They’re all there, buried in the stars. You just have to know where to look.” He sits up, pulling me with him. “Let me show you. They’re in a circle.”

Sutton scoots his body behind mine and presses his front flush against my back. He runs his hand from my shoulder down to my wrist at a torturous pace and goosebumps break out across my skin, despite the warm night air.

“Cold?” he whispers.

I nod, even though I’m far from it. He rubs his other hand up and down my opposite arm in an unnecessary attempt to warm me up. “Give me your hand.” I do what he asks, and he wraps our arms around my waist. Our current position is doing nothing to help me fight the feelings I’ve developed for my best friend. I don’t want to fall in love with Sutton Winters. I need him to be my best friend, my protector, my refuge. If I lose that, there’s nothing left. So, I take a few shaky breaths and swat aside the butterflies that are taking flight inside my belly. Sutton has my arm lined up with his and is pointing up at the sky. With his chin resting on my shoulder and his mouth next to my ear, he starts to speak.

“Let’s start with Sagittarius, the Archer. Follow our fingers, and I’ll point him out.” He traces a simple pattern out, but I still don’t see anything. He’s moving our hands and telling a story about Zeus and the king of the centaurs, but all I see are clusters of stars that don’t look like anything he’s telling me about. “You don’t see it,” he says, sounding a bit defeated that I’m not following.

“I can’t.”

He squeezes my hand around my waist before letting go. “Don’t move.” He disappears from the roof before I even realize he’s no longer sitting behind me.

“Don’t worry,” I mutter.

He comes back a few seconds later with a marker in his hand and a satisfied look on his face. “This will make it easier.” Sutton gets in his original position and scoots my shorts further up my thigh. “Do you mind?”

I don’t know exactly what he’s asking, but he could do whatever he wanted to me, and I wouldn’t have any objections. I shake my head against his, and he starts to draw a series of dots and lines on my leg. He’s drawing clusters of constellations, labeling them as he goes, in a circle on my flesh. Some he tells stories about, others he just tells me the name and moves on. I’m not paying much attention to any of it, though. My mind is focused on the feel of Sutton wrapped around me, the felt tip of his marker dragging across my skin, and the hypnotic tone of his voice.

“Now, let’s see if you can make sense of the sky now,” he tells me, moving back slightly and taking my hand in his again. His free hand points to the map on my leg and his other one that is clutching mine points to the sky, finding the stars that correspond with the images on my skin.

“I can see them,” I whisper. It’s like I’ve been let in on a secret only the two of us are privy to. One by one, Sutton points out the constellations and helps me decipher the stars.

The chaos of the sky is calmed.

“Thank you for showing me that,” I tell him, what feels like hours later.

“I’m glad you let me. Most people tune me out. I’m a bit of an astronomy nerd.”

“How did you learn all of this?” I can’t believe he’s just now letting me see this side of him.

“My grandfather. You know the one we stay with in California? He’s an astronomy professor.” He looks down at my leg and back at me, a solemn look passing over his face. “Do you think it’s safe for you to go back home yet?”

I can never tell, but with the amount of liquor I saw her consume earlier, she’s got to be passed out by now. “I’m sure it’s fine. If she’s up, I’ll go to Emily’s for the night.”

He runs his hand through his mop of unruly curls. “I hate this.”

“Please don’t.” I can’t go there with him right now. I don’t want the end of this wonderful night ruined. There’s nothing that can be done about the hell I have to endure at home, so talking about it won’t accomplish anything.

“Can I walk you home?” Even after all this time he still asks, even though he knows I’ll say yes.

“Always.”

We walk home in silence, Sutton’s stare focused on the road and mine glued to the map of stars on my leg. He only speaks when he hugs me in my front yard and asks me to call him if I need anything. When I let myself inside, I linger in the foyer for a few minutes, listening for any sounds of movement. I decide the coast is clear and tiptoe into my bedroom. A shower would be heaven right now, but I don’t want to risk waking up my mother. Instead, I sit down in the middle of my bed with a notebook and a pen, recreating the map of stars that Sutton drew on my flesh.

*****

Author Info:

Gretchen Tubbs lives in South Louisiana, surrounded by her amazing family. When she’s not writing, you can find her tucked away in her classroom teaching first graders how to read, chauffeuring her three daughters around, or basking in the awesomeness of her husband. She’s a total book junkie, and thinks Kristen Ashley and Colleen Hoover can do no wrong.

http://www.amazon.com/Gretchen-Tubbs/e/B00VH0C3WA

https://www.facebook.com/authorgretchentubbs

https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/13463282.Gretchen_Tubbs

https://www.amazon.com/Buried-Stars-Gretchen-Tubbs-ebook/dp/B01GOKKD88

Twitter @gretchentubbs

Spotlight – Better in the Morning

13 Monday Jun 2016

Posted by romanticreadsandsuch in Blog Tour

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Better in the Morning, Fern Ronay

I love the idea of starting over, finding yourself … it has challenges but there is something so appealing about it as well. The journey and all of that 🙂

*****

Better in the Morning

by Fern Ronay

Genre: Women’s Fiction

Publisher: Red Adept Publishing

Blurb:

Veronica Buccino has a plan: marry John DelMonico and quit her soul-sucking job as a lawyer. And when he tells her he has big news, she’s certain he’ll pop the question. But instead of proposing, John informs her that he’s moving to London.

Heartbroken, Veronica feels lost. Salvatore and Antoinette, her dead grandparents, begin to visit her dreams in an attempt to steer her in the right direction. At their suggestion, Veronica takes a news reporting class, which leads to a challenging freelance assignment covering a conspiracy trial. She also begins dating an unlikely suitor: creative Syd Blackman.

Just when her love life and career are looking up, Veronica is tossed back to square one by an event that makes her question all her new choices.

On Amazon – amzn.com/B01E5U8TRG

On Goodreads – http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/27395638-better-in-the-morning

*****

Author Info:

Fern Ronay was born and raised in Belleville, New Jersey. She is a lawyer and CPA as well as a writer, reporter, and blogger. After six years in Manhattan and six years in Chicago, she now lives in sunny Los Angeles with her husband.

In addition to writing novels, Fern authors the blog Stop and Blog the Roses and is a co-host on AfterBuzzTV. When she is not writing, reporting, or blogging, Fern can be found eating something, reading something, or running.

Website: www.FernRonay.com

Blog: http://m.blogher.com/myprofile/fern-ronay

On Facebook www.Facebook.com/FernRonay

On Twitter @FernRonay

On Instagram @FernRonay

On SnapChat @FernRonay

On Red Adept: http://bit.ly/RAPBetterMorning

*****

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Book Review – Notes and Roses

10 Friday Jun 2016

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

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Book Review, Notes & Roses, Notes and Roses, Rozenn Scott, Stanford Creek series

This one had me glued to my e-reader!

*****

Notes and Roses

Stanford Creek, Book One

by Rozenn Scott

Genre: Contemporary romance

Publisher: All Romance eBooks

Date of Publication: June 1, 2016

ISBN: 978-1-943576-83-8

Number of pages: 255

Word Count: 62000

Cover Artist: Erin Dameron-Hill

Blurb:

It’s time to stop running and take a stand…for love.

Former boy-band singer CJ Taylor is starting a new life. His stalker is behind bars, he’s taken back his birth name, and he’s bought a house in a small Vermont town. As Cody Brennan, he finally feels safe and wants to write new music and forget about his tragic past, but an accident nearly ruins everything.

Florist Megan Campbell is horrified when a stranger, covered in blood, collapses in her shop. Cody’s erratic behavior startles her at first, but as he recovers she becomes very attracted to him. Her family thinks she should curb her feelings, and worries about her safety—she worries about her heart.

From her amber eyes to her tempting smile, Megan is everything Cody promised himself to avoid. The more he gets to know her, the more he wants to stay. When his past begins to catch up to him in the form of violent threats, will they stay safe long enough to fall in love?

*****

Excerpt:

Megan Campbell stepped away from the cash register of Notes & Roses and leaned against the back counter. She put her right hand in her jeans pocket and, as carefully and unobtrusively as possible, removed her cell phone and scrolled to Justin’s name. What should she text her brother? Help sounded like a good start. Or possibly, there’s a man in my shop and I think he’s drunk or stoned.

Yep, text something like that to Justin, and he would come in guns blazing. Then he’d pin the weird guy to the floor and read him his rights. And the man currently staring at a wall didn’t look dangerous, just lost. Homeless, maybe?

Something more specific then, like, there is a vagrant in here, and he needs help, what should I do? The man moved a little. Away from her side of the store, the “roses” part of the setup, and over to the “notes” side. He was peering at the shelves, a collection of stationery and household bits and pieces like cushions and local crafts. He stumbled a little, turned to the side, and looked up at the posters displayed on the far wall. Landscapes of Vermont: rivers, small towns and red high-sided barns with gently rolling hills of emerald green.

“That’s wrong,” he said.

“Sorry?” Megan asked—but he didn’t reply.

He’s talking to the wall now. Should she add that to the text as well? This was going to end up being a hell of a lot of typing to explain what he was doing. Despite how odd it all looked, the visitor wasn’t threatening her. Also, Rachel would be back soon. Maybe between them they could sort this out?

He hadn’t even spoken to her, but something wasn’t right. Maybe it was the way he’d been standing, his hands fisted at his sides, staring now at the new Valentine’s wall display of flowers and hearts. Maybe it was the way he was dressed; dark jeans caked in mud, heavy boots that had tracked in the same mud. Not to mention the black hoodie with the hood partially hiding his face from her view.

Or maybe it was the despair in his hunched shoulders, the utter defeat in the way he had to support himself to stand.

Whatever it was, Megan was faced with two options. Talk to the strange man in her shop while she was alone in here, or call in reinforcements in case things went south.

Her visitor moved, not his feet but his fists, unclenching and bringing his hands up to knuckle his eyes and then cover them. Megan’s cop brother liked to explain these things to her, but she didn’t need his help to recognize when despair in someone turned to anger.

She sent the standard 911 text, startled when she looked up and saw the stranger had stepped closer to her while she’d been distracted.

“Where am I?” he asked, his voice very soft.

“You’re in my shop.”

He shook his head. “I need the music. Someone took it, and I need it.”

Okay, this was so not going the way she wanted it to go. He was incoherent. Maybe he was homeless and needed a place to get out of the persistent snow that had plagued Stanford Creek the last few days. He’d evidently been somewhere slushy and muddy, if his clothes were anything to go by.

“I don’t understand, sir; what music do you need?” she asked, and waited for him to acknowledge her question. Instead, he took another, shaky, step forward, and covered his eyes again. “Hello? Can I help you?” she repeated when he didn’t look at her.

That finally got his attention. His hands came down, and she got her first clear look at his eyes and face. What she saw had her reaching to send another text. He had blood on him, smeared down from his temple into his wild beard, and his blue eyes were bright with something. Drugs maybe? Long, dark hair hid some of his features, and he looked like he was about to keel over.

“Where’s the music?” he mumbled, his voice low and urgent. He gripped his temples hard and stumbled back, knocking a display of greeting cards to the floor. The sound was a loud clatter in the otherwise quiet room. “Shit… I didn’t…”

“Sir?” This time she was within reaching distance as he rounded on her, his lips pulled back in a snarl—or a grimace of pain, she couldn’t be entirely sure. Whatever, it wasn’t the look of someone who wanted to be spoken to. Time to leave. She glanced at the front door, imagining the steps between here and there and whether or not he would lurch her way. When she focused back on him, all she saw was a situation that could get out of hand. He was a good six inches taller than her five-nine, broad and built, with tattoos curling around his wrist, disappearing up under the sleeve of the hoodie.

Everything about him looked wrong. He didn’t move again, or even acknowledge her; all he did was stare with bright sapphire eyes, focused on a point behind her, scary and intense and so damned fixated with his expression in that scowl.

“What happened?” He groaned and covered his eyes again. “Call… Zee…”

She texted without looking, only glancing at the screen briefly to make sure she was sending another text to her brother and not some random person on her list. 911. Again. The standard sibling instruction for help me right the hell now, reserved for having one of her brothers rescue her from one of her many dreadful first dates. Garrett wasn’t even in town, so there was little point texting him, and Justin may not even be in the sheriff’s office. She hoped to hell he was, though, and had read her message. She’d know soon enough because the small sheriff’s office was close.

And still the stranger stood there, staring at her. At least he hadn’t moved any closer.

He closed his eyes and wiped the blood that was trickling down his face, looking down at his hand and staring at the red that streaked his skin. Megan thought she heard a sob, but couldn’t be sure. Compassion welled inside her. Vagrant or not, dressed in soiled clothes and with the hood up, he didn’t have to be a criminal.

“Sir? Do you need help?” She held out her hand, but he stepped closer to her and damn it, she may have had self-defense training but she wasn’t stupid. If the man was hopped up on drugs, she had to stay out of reach. The door opened and Justin stepped in, all uniform and pissed-off attitude.

“Two 911s? This had better be good, Megs.”

Megan inclined her head to the man Justin evidently hadn’t seen in his dramatic entrance. Justin could handle himself, and he had a gun; he’d know what to do.

“What the hell?” Justin said as he assessed the situation, his hand automatically resting on his holstered weapon.

“I think it’s drugs,” she said loud enough for Justin to hear. The man looked at Justin and then to her, before shaking his head a little.

“No.” The voice was raspy, little more than a growl. “Not those.” He appeared to be struggling to talk, and he pressed his hands to each side of his head. “Just the music; Zee will know,” he added, but his voice slurred, and he coughed and doubled over.

Justin pulled his weapon and held it to one side, his other hand held in front of him as he stepped closer. “Sir? Are you hurt?”

Megan saw her brother’s hand on the sidearm, the other placating and suggesting and warning at the same time. She’d seen him stand like this when he broke up the fight at the drugstore. Not that he’d drawn his weapon then; he’d dealt with it by intimidation alone, because everyone involved lived in the town and no one messed with the sheriff. Megan looked at her brother, who teased her, who’d hidden her dolls and pulled her pigtails as a kid, but who was now in a situation that was serious. He was all business.

“What’s your name, sir?” Justin asked.

The stranger stepped back from him, straight into a pile of notebooks this time. The shelf shuddered and some of the display tilted. The movement translated into Justin grabbing the man’s hoodie to stop him falling as he flailed and attempted to stay upright.

He took a swing at Justin, who ducked and swerved. The attempted hit missed Justin by a mile, and the man followed the momentum he had begun, smacked his fist against a shelf edge, and collapsed in a heap on the floor. Then he didn’t move, was absolutely still. Justin holstered his weapon and crouched next to the prone form of the hooded man, checking for a pulse and then talking into his radio.

“Dispatch, 390D, medical assistance required at Notes & Roses.”

*****

Review:

I was so surprised when I realized that I’d already gotten to the end of this book. The story held me captive and I just kept turning pages as quickly as I could!

For all of the secrets and problems that these two have, the story is pretty simple. They meet, have a connection and start dating. There isn’t a lot of emotional drama or setbacks for them. Megan handles it well when she finds out Cody’s secrets. He’s had a rough couple of years and is understandably wary (and weary), but he’s not a bad man and Megan knows that.

I love the simplicity of it … and then Scott throws us a few curves to keep things hopping. It’s not horribly drawn out, and I like that as well. It’s wrapped up smoothly and I am super excited to see what else is coming in this series. Between Cody’s bandmates and Megan’s family there are bound to be some great stories coming … hopefully soon 🙂

*****

Author Info:

RJ Scott is the bestselling author of over ninety romance novels and novellas. From cowboys to millionaires, SEALS to cops, her stories are passionate, sexy, and always come with a guaranteed happy ever after. RJ also writes as Rozenn Scott for her new line of strong men and women who find that it’s always worth overcoming obstacles to find a forever love.

RJ lives just outside of London, and has never met a bottle of wine she can’t defeat.

For more information on other books by RJ/Rozenn, visit her website: www.RJScott.co.uk

http://twitter.com/RJScott_author

https://www.facebook.com/RJScottAuthor/

https://www.facebook.com/rozennscott/

*****

Giveaway:

3 Copies of an ARe A Shades of Naughty ebook

http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/ba112ffc1354/

*****

Click the banner below to check out the rest of the tour

Book Review – An Amish Match

09 Thursday Jun 2016

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An Amish Match, Book Review, Jo Ann Brown

An Amish Match

by Jo Ann Brown

A Convenient Wedding

With a baby on the way, a toddler son to care for and a run-down farm, Amish widow Rebekah Burkholder is worried for her family’s future. So when a kind, hardworking Amish widower with three children proposes marriage for sensible reasons, Rebekah accepts. She’ll oversee Joshua Stoltzfus’s household, be a loving mother to his children and try to reach his rebellious teenager. Joshua will make a wonderful father to her young son and the little one soon to be born. But as Rebekah unexpectedly falls for her new husband, dare she hope that Joshua will reopen his heart to love, too?

I love these Amish romances from Harlequin. There is just something heartwarming and reaffirming about the goodness in the world – the simple life and dedication to family, community and God.

Rebekah’s first marriage proves though that even in an Amish life there are still problems. She’s hesitant to trust a man again but realizes that marriage to Joshua is the best thing for her kids. And spending time with a man that has such a good heart goes a long way to reminding her that there are worthy men in the world.

Joshua doesn’t understand why Rebekah is so skittish but he realizes that having a strong, caring woman in the house full time is doing wonderful things for his family. But he finds it very hard to reconcile moving on from his first wife who he loved very much.

Their private battles could be true for anyone – Amish or not. And the glimpse into their community and beliefs just adds extra heart to an already touching story of two people deciding if they can let go of the past and move forward together.

Book Review – It Had to Be Fate

08 Wednesday Jun 2016

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Book Review, It Had to Be Fate, Tamra Baumann

It Had to Be Fate

by Tamra Baumann

Falling for a bad-boy rock star is the last thing single mother Casey Anderson-Bovier should do. Embroiled in a custody battle with her ex, Casey is fighting to raise her boys in their quaint Colorado hometown—a secret haven for celebrities. But when it comes to her hotel’s newest guest, Casey can’t connect the dots. Is Zane Steele the out-of-control rocker plastered all over the media, or the captivating man with a killer smile who’s charming her and her two boys?

Zane has a good reason for letting the world believe the worst of him—and that’s a secret he’s sure he can never share…until he meets Casey. After years of having fans fall at his feet, he’s found the one woman who brings him to his knees. Casey is beautiful and intriguing—and thoroughly justified in not trusting him one bit, especially with her family at stake. But the only way to be together is to convince her to take a chance on him, on fate, and on their crazy, unexpected love.

Casey fights her attraction to Zane but I really liked that she didn’t cling too hard to what’s in the media, instead believing what she sees for herself. He’s caring and funny, respects her and takes care of her kids. He shows what a good man he is and that means so much more.

I love this book – it totally wasn’t what I was expecting. Baumann gives readers two characters to root for – both battling personal issues but finding it hard to ignore their hearts as they get to know each other more. The complete normalness of the two falling in love is hard to resist and while their problems might be bigger than the average persons it is related in a believable way. And I love the way everything is resolved in the end – it works so well for the story. I’m definitely looking into what else Baumann has out there.

(This is my first book in this series and it can totally stand on its own.)

Book Review – Accidentally Compromising the Duke

07 Tuesday Jun 2016

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Accidentally Compromising the Duke, Book Review, Stacy Reid, Wedded by Scandal series

Accidentally Compromising the Duke

Wedded by Scandal #1

by Stacy Reid

England, 1817

Miss Adeline Hays is out of options. Determined to escape marriage to a repugnant earl, Adel plans to deliberately allow herself to be caught in a compromising position at a house party with the much kinder man she’d hoped to marry. Instead, Adeline accidentally enters the wrong chamber and tumbles into the bed of the mad duke.

Edmond Rochester, the duke of Wolverton, is seeking a wife to care for his two daughters. A young lady of sensibilities, accomplishment, and most importantly, one who he is not attracted to—a complete opposite of the bewitching beauty who traps him into marriage. But despite the lust he feels for his new duchess, Edmond is resolved to never allow them intimacy, refusing to ever again suffer the tormenting loss of a loved one.

I have to admit that it took what felt like 5 minutes to get thru this story – I just couldn’t put it down and it was such an addictive read, so smooth.

We start off with Adel’s dilemma and with the help of a friend she plots to get a different husband, one of her choice. Unfortunately her plotting doesn’t go quite the way she wants. Enter the Mad Duke. He’s in search of a wife, one that he won’t love like he did his first wife. Which brings him to the same house party as Adel, to ask for the hand of her friend … who doesn’t want to marry him. Yeah, this is going to turn out just fine. As expected, Adel does get herself a different husband, just not the one she anticipated.

Even with the bad start, Adel and Edmond develop a fantastic relationship. Unfortunately he’s got some troubles left over from his first marriage and the death of his wife. It’s good that Adel is intelligent and kind hearted because she’s going to need every bit of it to handle him as he works through his fears.

Reid does a fantastic job of describing how he ended up in this spot and why he feels the way he does. She’s deft enough to do it and take us along for every enjoyable (and sometimes heartbreaking) moment.

If the first book in the series is this good, I can’t wait for the rest!

Spotlight – The Angel Wore Fangs

06 Monday Jun 2016

Posted by romanticreadsandsuch in Blog Tour, Contest, Sneak Peek

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Deadly Angels series, Sandra Hill, The Angel Wore Fangs

We’ve seen Envy and Wrath, plus a novella, so I’m excited to be able to bring you Gluttony!

*****

The Angel Wore Fangs

A Deadly Angels Book

by Sandra Hill

Avon Books

May 31, 2016

ISBN: 9780062356543; $7.99

E-ISBN 9780062356550 * $5.99

Blurb:

New York Times bestselling author Sandra Hill continues her sexy Deadly Angels series, as a Viking vangel’s otherworldly mission pairs him with a beautiful chef who whets his thousand-year-old appetite . . .

Once guilty of the deadly sin of gluttony, thousand-year-old Viking vampire angel Cnut Sigurdsson is now a lean, mean, vampire-devil fighting machine. His new side-job? No biggie: just ridding the world of a threat called ISIS while keeping the evil Lucipires (demon vampires) at bay. So when chef Andrea Stewart hires him to rescue her sister from a cult recruiting terrorists at a Montana dude ranch, vangel turns cowboy. Yeehaw!

The too-tempting mortal insists on accompanying him, surprising Cnut with her bravery at every turn. But with terrorists stalking the ranch in demonoid form, Cnut tele-transports Andrea and himself out of danger-accidentally into the 10th Century Norselands. Suddenly, they have to find their way back to the future to save her family and the world . . . and to satisfy their insatiable attraction.

Purchase Here:

THE ANGEL WORE FANGS – https://www.harpercollins.com/9780062356550/the-angel-wore-fangs

Praise for Sandra Hill’s Deadly Angels series:

“Fans of paranormal and time travel will get a kick out of this sexy and often humorous addition to the Deadly Angels series. Viking vampire angel Cnut is a completely strong hero, and Andrea, his accompaniment, is matched with him perfectly. Their antics will make readers giggle, and their adventures will keep fans at the edge of their seats. Hill’s vivid imagination really shines!” —RT Book Reviews on The Angel Wore Fangs

“An awesome…series! Kept me up late into the night reading. Looking forward to the next installment.” — New York Times bestselling author Lynsay Sands

“Hill has written another winner featuring her Viking vampire angels. In her fourth in the passion-driven Deadly Angels series, two of the most unlikely characters, Mordr and Miranda, are thrown together and the result is laugh-out-loud humor and unrivaled sex appeal.” —Romantic Times Book Reviews on Kiss of Wrath

“With her clever dialogue, often bawdy situations, and great cast of characters, including a warrior woman, a proverb-spouting wise man/healer from the East, and a saucy cook, Hill has created another wickedly wonderful story.” —Booklist (starred review) on Kiss of Wrath

“The third book in Sandra Hill’s Deadly Angels series, Kiss of Temptation, comes out Tuesday. Along with it comes the temptation to play hooky that day so I can hang out with Ivak, who’s guilty of the sin of lust. Aren’t we all, when it comes to Sandra Hill’s books?” — USA Today on Kiss of Temptation

“Thanks for the laughs and the heartfelt emotions, Ms. Hill. I loved this one and am looking forward to the next book in this exciting series.” —The Romance Reviews on Kiss of Temptation

Earthy, laugh-out-loud hilarious, and lusty, this tenth-century revel takes readers back to a much-less-refined time and is just plain fun. Hill’s (Viking Heat) Viking series are legendary; her fans are sure to enjoy this latest addition.” —Library Journal on Kiss of Surrender

“Sixth in the Deadly Angels series, Even Vampires Get the Blues is entertaining, solid and consistent in its storytelling. Fans of the Vampire Viking Angels series will be pleased.” — Romantic Times Book Reviews on Even Vampires Get the Blues

*****

Excerpt:

Weight Watchers, where art thou? . . .

Cnut Sigurdsson was a big man. A really big man! He was taller than the average man, of course, being a Viking, but more than that, he was . . . well . . . truth to tell . . . fat.

Obesity was a highly unusual condition for Men of the North, Cnut had to admit, because Norsemen were normally vain of appearance, sometimes to a ridiculous extent. Long hair, combed to a high sheen. Braided beards. Clean teeth. Gold and silver arm rings to show off muscles. Tight braies delineating buttocks and ballocks.

But not him.

Cnut did not care.

Even now, when three of his six brothers, who’d come (uninvited, by the by) to his Frigg’s-day feast here at Hoggstead in the Norselands, were having great fun making jests about just that. They were half-brothers, actually, all with different mothers, but that was neither here nor there. Cnut cared not one whit what the lackwits said. Not even when Trond made oinking noises, as if Cnut’s estate were named for a porcine animal when he knew good and well it was the name of the original owner decades ago, Bjorn Hoggson. Besides, Trond had no room to make mock of others when he was known to be the laziest Viking to ever ride a longship. Some said he did not even have the energy to lift his cock for pissing, that he sat like a wench on the privy hole. That was probably not true, but it made a good story.

Nor did Cnut bother to rise and clout his eldest brother, Vikar, when he asked the skald to make a rhyme of Cnut’s name:

Cnut is a brute

And a glutton, of some repute.

He is so fat that, when he goes a-Viking for loot,

He can scarce lift a bow with an arrow to shoot.

But when it comes to woman-pursuit,

None can refute

That Cnut can “salute” with the best of them.

Thus and therefore, let it be known

And this is a truth absolute,

Size matters.

“Ha, ha, ha!” Cnut commented, while everyone in the great hall howled with laughter, and Vikar was bent over, gasping with mirth.

Cnut did not care, especially since Vikar was known to be such a prideful man he fair reeked of self-love. At least the skald had not told the poem about how, if Cnut spelled his name with a slight exchange of letters, he would be a vulgar woman part. That was one joke Cnut did not appreciate.

But mockery was a game to Norsemen. And, alas and alack, Cnut was often the butt of the jests.

He. Did. Not. Care.

Yea, some said he resembled a walking tree with a massive trunk, limbs like hairy battering rams, and fingers so chubby he could scarce make a fist. Even his face was bloated, surrounded by a mass of wild, tangled hair on head and beard, which was dark blond, though its color was indiscernible most times since it was usually greasy and teeming with lice. Unlike most Vikings, he rarely bathed. In his defense, what tub would hold him? And the water chute into the steam hut was often clogged. And the water in the fjords was frigid except for summer months. What man in his right mind wanted to turn his cock into an icicle?

A disgrace to the ideal of handsome, virile Vikinghood, he overheard some fellow jarls say about him on more than one occasion.

And as for his brother Harek, who considered himself smarter than the average Viking, Cnut glared his way and spoke loud enough for all to hear, “Methinks your first wife, Dagne, has put on a bit of blubber herself in recent years. Last time I saw her in Kaupang, she was as wide as she was tall. And she farted as she walked, rather waddled. Phhhttt, phhhttt, phhhttt! Now, there is something to make mock of!”

“You got me there,” Harek agreed with a smile, raising his horn of mead high in salute.

One of the good things about Vikings was that they could laugh at themselves. The sagas were great evidence of that fact.

At least Cnut was smart enough not to take on any wives of his own, despite his twenty and eight years. Concubines and the odd wench here and there served him well. Truly, as long as Cnut’s voracious hunger for all bodily appetites—food, drink, sex—was being met, he cared little what others thought of him.

When his brothers were departing two days later (he thought they’d never leave), Vikar warned him, “Jesting aside, Cnut, be careful. One of these days your excesses are going to be your downfall.”

“Not one of these days. Now,” Cnut proclaimed jovially as he crooked a chubby forefinger at Inga, a passing chambermaid with a bosom not unlike the figurehead of his favorite longship, Sea Nymph. “Wait for me in the bed furs,” he called out to her. “I plan to fall down with you for a bit of bedplay.”

Vikar, Trond, and Harek just shook their heads at him, as if he were a hopeless case.

Cnut did not care.

But Vikar’s words came back to haunt Cnut several months later when he was riding Hugo, one of his two war horses, across his vast estate. A normal-size palfrey could not handle his weight; he would squash it like an oatcake. Besides, his long legs dragged on the ground. So he had purchased two Percherons from Le Perche, a province north of Norsemandy in the Franklands known for breeding the huge beasts. They’d cost him a fortune.

But even with the sturdy destrier and his well-padded arse, not to mention the warm, sunny weather, Cnut was ready to return to the keep for a midday repast. Most Vikings had only two meals a day. The first, dagmál or “day-meal,” breaking of fast, was held two hours after morning work was started, and the second, náttmál or “night meal.” was held in the evening when the day’s work was completed. But Cnut needed a midday meal, as well. And right now, a long draught of mead and an afternoon nap would not come amiss. But he could not go back yet. His steward, Finngeir the Frugal (whom he was coming to regard as Finn the Bothersome Worrier), insisted that he see the extent of the dry season on the Hoggstead cotters’ lands.

Ho-hum. Cnut didn’t even bother to stifle his yawn.

“Even in the best of times, the gods have not blessed the Norselands with much arable land, being too mountainous and rocky. Why else would we go a-Viking but to settle new, more fertile lands?”

“And women,” Cnut muttered. “Fertile or not.”

Finn ignored his sarcasm and went on. Endlessly. “One year of bad crops is crippling, but two years, and it will be a disaster, I tell you. Look at the fields. The grains are half as high as they should be by this time of year. If it does not rain soon—”

Blather, blather, blather. I should have brought a horn of ale with me. And an oatcake, or five. Cnut did not like Finn’s lecturing tone, but Finn was a good and loyal subject, and Cnut would hate the thought of replacing him. So Cnut bit back a snide retort. “What would you have me do? A rain dance? I can scarce walk, let alone dance. Ha, ha, ha.”

Finn did not smile.

The humorless wretch.

“Dost think I have a magic wand to open the clouds? The only wand I have is betwixt my legs. Ha, ha, ha.”

No reaction, except for a continuing frown, and a resumption of his tirade. “You must forgive the taxes for this year. Then you must open your storerooms to feed the masses. That is what you must do.”

“Are you barmy? I cannot do that! I need the taxes for upkeep of my household and to maintain a fighting troop of housecarls. As for my giving away foodstuffs, forget about that, too.

Last harvest did not nearly fill my oat and barley bins. Nay, ’tis impossible!”

“There is more. Look about you, my jarl. Notice how the people regard you. You will have an uprising on your own lands, if you are not careful.”

“What? Where? I do not know—” Cnut’s words cut off as he glanced to his right and left, passing through a narrow lane that traversed through his crofters’ huts. Here and there, he saw men leaning on rakes or hauling manure to the fields. They were gaunt-faced and grimy, glaring at him through angry eyes. One man even spat on the ground, narrowly missing Hugo’s hoof. And the women were no better, raising their skinny children up for him to see.

“That horse would feed a family of five for a month,” one toothless old graybeard yelled.

His wife—Cnut assumed it was his wife, being equally aged and toothless—cackled and said, “Forget that. If the master skipped one meal a month, the whole village could feast.”

Many of those standing about laughed.

Cnut did not.

Good thing they did not know how many mancuses it had taken to purchase Hugo and the other Percheron. It was none of their concern! Cnut had a right to spend his wealth as he chose. Leastways, that’s what he told himself.

Now, instead of being softened by what he saw, Cnut hardened his heart. “If they think to threaten me, they are in for a surprise,” he said to Finn once they’d left the village behind and were returning to the castle keep. “Tell the taxman to evict those who do not pay their rents this year.”

By late autumn, when the last of the meager crops was harvested, Cnut had reason to reconsider. Already, he’d had to buy extra grains and vegetables from the markets in Birka and Hedeby, just for his keep. Funerals were held back to back in the village. And he was not convinced that Hugo had died of natural causes last sennight, especially when his carcass had disappeared overnight. Cnut had been forced to post guards about his stables and storage shed since then. Everywhere he turned, people were grumbling, if not outright complaining.

That night, in a drukkinn fit of rage, he left his great hall midway through the dinner meal. Highly unusual for him. But then, who wouldn’t lose his appetite with all those sour faces silently accusing him? It wasn’t Cnut who’d brought the drought; even the most sane-minded

Creature must know that. Blame the gods, or lazy field hands who should have worked harder, or bad seed.

As he was leaving, he declined an invitation from some of his hersirs who were engaged in a game of hneftafl. Even his favorite board game with its military strategies and rousing side bets held no interest tonight. Bodil, a chambermaid, gave him a sultry wink of invitation in passing, but he was not in the mood for bedplay tonight, either.

He decided to visit the garderobe before taking to his bed, alone, and nigh froze his balls when he sat on the privy hole. He was further annoyed to find that someone had forgotten to replenish the supply of moss and grape leaves for wiping.

When Cnut thought things could not get any worse, he opened the garderobe door and almost tripped over the threshold at what he saw. A man stood across the corridor, arms crossed over his chest. A stranger. Could it be one of his desperate, starving tenants come to seek revenge on him, as Finn had warned?

No. Despite the darkness, the only light coming from a sputtering wall torch, Cnut could see that this man was handsome in appearance, noble in bearing. Long, black hair. Tall and lean, though well-muscled, like a warrior. And oddly, he wore a long white robe with a twisted rope belt, and a gold crucifix hung from a chain about his neck. Even odder, there appeared to be wings half folded behind his back.

Was it a man or something else?

I must be more drukkinn than I thought. “Who are you?”

“St. Michael the Archangel.”

One of those flying creatures the Christians believe in? This is some alehead madness I am imagining! A walking dream.

’Tis no dream, fool,” the stranger said, as if he’d read Cnut’s thoughts.

“What do you want?” Cnut demanded.

“Not you, if I had a choice, that is for certain,” the man/creature/angel said with a tone of disgust. “Thou art a dire sinner, Cnut Sigurdsson, and God is not pleased with you.”

“Which god would that be? Odin? Thor?”

“For shame! There is only one God.”

Ah! Of course. He referred to the Christian One-God. Vikings might follow the Old Norse religions, but they were well aware of the Christian dogma, and, in truth, many of them allowed themselves to be baptized, just for the sake of expediency.

“So, your God is not pleased with me. And I should care about that . . . why?” Cnut inquired, holding on to the doorjamb to straighten himself with authority. He was a high jarl, after all, and this person was trespassing. Cnut glanced about for help, but none of his guardsmen were about. Surprise, surprise. They are probably still scowling and complaining about the lack of meat back in the hall. I am going to kick some arse for this neglect.

“Attend me well, Viking; you should care because thou are about to meet your maker.” He said Viking as if it were a foul word. “As are your brothers. Sinners, all of you!”

“Huh?”

“Seven brothers, each guilty of one of the Seven Deadly Sins. Pride. Lust. Sloth. Wrath. Gluttony. Envy. Greed.” He gave Cnut a pointed look. “Wouldst care to guess which one is yours?”

Nay, he would not. “So I eat and drink overmuch. I can afford the excess. What sin is that?”

“Fool!” the angel said, and immediately a strange fog swirled in the air. In its mist, Cnut saw flashing images:

Starving and dead children.
Him gnawing on a boar shank so voraciously that a greasy drool slipped down his chin. Not at all attractive.
One of his cotters being beaten to a bloody pulp for stealing bread for his family.
Honey being spread on slice after slice of manchet bread on his high table.
A young Cnut, no more than eight years old, slim and sprightly, chasing his older brothers about their father’s courtyard.
A naked, adult Cnut, gross and ugly with folds of fat and swollen limbs. He could not run now, if he’d wanted to.
A family, wearing only threadbare garb and carrying cloth bundles of its meager belongings, being evicted from its home with no place to go in the snowy weather.
Warm hearths and roofs overhead on the Hoggstead keep.
A big-bosomed concubine riding Cnut in the bed furs, not an easy task with his big belly.
The same woman weeping as she unwrapped a linen cloth holding scraps of bread and meat, half-eaten oatcakes, and several shrunken apples, before her three young children.

Cnut had seen enough. “This farce has gone on long enough! You say I am going to die? Now? And all my brothers, too? Excuse me if I find that hard to believe.”

“Not all at once. Some have already passed. Others will go shortly.”

Really? Three of his brothers had been here several months past, and he had not received news of any deaths in his family since, but then their estates were distant and the roads were nigh impassable this time of year. The fjords were no better, already icing over, making passage difficult for longships.

“I should toss you down the privy hole and let you die in the filth,” the angel said, “but you would not fit. Better yet, I should lock you in the garderobe and let you starve to death, like your serfs do.”

Ah, so that’s what this was about. “You cannot blame me for lack of rain or poor harvests. In fact, your God—”

Before he could finish the thought, the angel pointed a forefinger at him, and a flash of light passed forth, hitting Cnut right in the chest, like a bolt of lightning. Cnut found himself dangling off the floor. He clutched his heart, which felt as if a giant stake had passed through his body, securing him to the wall.

“Let it be known hither and yon, the Viking race has become too arrogant and brutish, and it is God’s will that it should die out. But you and your brothers are being given a second chance, though why, only God knows.”

What? Wait. Did he say I won’t be dying, after all?

“This is thy choice. Repent and agree to become a vangel in God’s army for seven hundred years, and thou wilt have a chance to make up for your mortal sins. Otherwise, die and spend eternity at Satan’s hearth.”

A sudden smell of rotten eggs filled the air. Brimstone, Cnut guessed, which was said to be a characteristic of the Christian afterlife for those who had offended their god. At the same time, he could swear his toes felt a mite warm. Yea, fire and brimstone, for a certainty.

So, I am being given a choice between seven hundred years in God’s army or forever roasting in Hell. Some choice! Still, he should not be too quick to agree. “Vangel? What in bloody hell is a vangel?” Cnut gasped out.

“A Viking vampire angel who will fight the forces of Satan’s Lucipires, demon vampires who roam the world spreading evil.”

That was clear as fjord mud. Cnut was still pinned high on the wall, and he figured he was in no position to negotiate. Besides, seven hundred years didn’t sound too bad.

But he forgot to ask what exactly a vampire was.

He soon found out.

With a wave of his hand, the angel loosened Cnut’s invisible ties, and he fell to the floor. If he’d thought the heart pain was bad, it was nothing compared to the excruciating feel of bones being crushed and reformed. If that wasn’t bad enough, he could swear he felt fangs forming on each side of his mouth, like a wolf. And his shoulders were being ripped apart, literally, and replaced with what, Cnut could not be sure, as he writhed about the rush-covered floor.

“First things first,” the angel said then, leaning over him with a menacing smile. “You are going on a diet.”

*****

Author Info:

Sandra Hill is a graduate of Penn State and worked for more than 10 years as a features writer and education editor for publications in New Jersey and Pennsylvania. Writing about serious issues taught her the merits of seeking the lighter side of even the darkest stories. She is the wife of a stockbroker and the mother of four sons

Connect with Sandra Hill

Website – https://www.sandrahill.net/

Twitter – https://twitter.com/sandrahillauth

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

Goodreads – https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/177305.Sandra_Hill

*****

Giveaway:

3 e-copies of ANGEL WORE FANGS

http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/97a55ed480/

Spotlight – The Reverse of Perfection

03 Friday Jun 2016

Posted by romanticreadsandsuch in Blog Tour, Sneak Peek

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Bad Decisions trilogy, Christi Barth, The Reverse of Perfection

We’ve had the delightful Ms Barth on here many times before, including the first book in this series (The Opposite of Right). I’m so happy she shared the next book with us!

*****

The Reverse of Perfection

Book 2 in the Bad Decisions trilogy

by Christi Barth

Blurb:

Dylan Royce, ex-teen pop star, needs a sexy image makeover. His first adult solo album came out under his perfect, white-washed persona and tanked. Joining a band equally famous for their music and their between-the-sheets escapades is only the start. He needs to get raunchy. Sleep with a different girl every night. But there’s only one woman he wants, and she still sees him as a goody two-shoes boy-bander.

Ariel Watson is the publicist in charge of turning Dylan into the sex-god every woman dreams of doing. Frankly, she doesn’t see the appeal. Until one hot kiss changes her mind. Now she wants to keep him for herself–without losing her job. Or losing Dylan the legions of drooling fans she’s supposed to be building for him.

Turning bad got Dylan the woman of his dreams. But how will he choose between her…or his career catapulting him back to superstar status?

(Although it is the second in a series, it can be read as a standalone.)

Buy Links: Amazon: http://amzn.to/1WnJyJ6

B&N: http://bit.ly/21TvR3W

iBooks: http://apple.co/1WbER4G

Kobo: http://bit.ly/1T427vH

*****

Excerpt:

Ariel lifted her chin. “I would not appreciate being manhandled. I do like to be handled by a man who knows what he’s doing. There is a difference.”

“I know the difference.” Dylan picked up his blazer and held it over his shoulder by a single finger. “And I’ll prove that, too.”

Before Ariel could snarkily turn him down, before she could remind him that she was the one in charge, before she could do anything, he’d already moved in on her. Used his hips to press her into the curve of the piano. Used his shoulder to nudge her body into a better angle. And then his lips met hers. Softly. Not all bluster and brashness.

No, Dylan surprised her with his technique. His kiss was a faint brush of lips. Then another. A slow back and forth that had her opening her own lips in a silent plea for more. More contact. More kisses. More of him. Ariel even raised up on tiptoe to lean into that provocative mouth.

It worked. Dylan slid his hand along her waist, then up her side so his thumb lay just below the lower curve of her right breast. The fact that he was so near and yet not touching it made Ariel hyperaware of his fingers. The length of them. The heat of them searing right through her top, as though all the heat from playing Naked now seeped out of him. Dylan squeezed, pressing her in and up, bowing her to press her breasts into his chest.

And then his tongue swooped in. Licking. Languorously exploring—and that exploration had the added bonus of slowly rousing every infinitesimal strand of nerves in her mouth. Warmth swirled right along with his tongue. Except that trail of warmth took off on its own path, expanding through her body with each pulse of her heart, each pull of his lips.

Ariel didn’t want to do anything to jar the perfection of what was inarguably one of the top three kisses of her entire life. But she simply couldn’t contain her pleasure—or her growing excitement. A low moan broke from her throat.

As feared, that was enough to make Dylan ease back. He removed his hand first…still without lifting his thumb that last crucial millimeter to make contact with her now aching breast. With a final suck on her bottom lip, he lifted his head. Looked at her with bedroom eyes, heavy-lidded and somehow darker than when she’d first seen them.

“That’s what it’s like to be well-handled by a man. I need you to keep that in mind. Make sure you handle me just as well over the next few weeks.” Dylan turned on his heel to walk out with one heck of a cocky swagger. Which was when Ariel realized he’d just kissed her legs out from under her without even using two hands. The other had kept holding his jacket.

Ohhhh.

Dylan Royce was definitely not the teenager she’d watched bop around in those videos. He was all man. A very dangerous man. Because in proving how easily he could make women in the audience want him, he’d also proven how easily he could make Ariel want him.

And now that she did want him? Enough so that she had to ease onto the piano bench and let her head clear? It’d be impossible to look at him the same way again. It’d be impossible to ignore the chemistry between them. It’d be impossible to shadow him twenty-four/seven, stay impartial and do her job.

But if she didn’t, if Ariel screwed up at all handling Dylan, she’d be fired. Funny how that fear still wasn’t enough to dim the luster of his kiss.

*****

Author Info:

Christi Barth earned a Masters degree in vocal performance and embarked upon a career on the stage. A love of romance then drew her to wedding planning.

Ultimately she succumbed to her lifelong love of books and now writes contemporary romance. Christi lives in Maryland with her husband.

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