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INTERVIEWING WADE Launch Celebration: Bowling with Wade & Carla

Interviewing WadeAfter a celebration launch breakfast with Wade and Carla in Wade’s Dungeon, involving a fabulous sampling of Pop Tarts a la Flannery and Marshmallow Cream chocolate coffee, a la Chrittenden, Wade and Carla invite me to join them for an early morning bowling session at Clyde’s bowling alley – the place that has inspired some of Wade’s most innovative inventions.

Right off the bat, I march up to the lane, take three steps, as everyone has instructed me, let the ball go and fall flat on my ass, while the ball with some serious momentum, gutters long before it gets to the pins.

Wade watches it nodding. ‘I’ve never seen quite that kind of back spin on a ball. I think it has something to do with the way you were off balance when you let it go.’ The earnestness of his observation makes me laugh as I wait for the ball return rubbing my bruised butt.

‘Is that engineer speak for what happens when you fall an your ass while swinging a bowling ball?’

‘Well I suppose there’s a bit of that,’ he says, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. ‘I can give you the mathematics of what just happened if you’d like.’ The man has shed his requisite black hoodie and I’m suddenly reminded just how well-built he is. He’s sporting a faded red t-shirt on which I can barely make out a diagram of a carbon molecule superimposed over the Coca Cola logo with the words Carbon Nation written in the Coke font. ‘But I don’t think it would help your game.’

This time I managed to stay on my feet and boldly take out one pin on the far left after the ball slo-mo’s its way down the lane. ‘I don’t think much of anything would help my game,’ I say.

‘Looks to me like your ball’s to heavy,’ Clyde says.

‘Heavy balls can be a real problem,’ Carla says around a mouthful of Doritos. Wade gives her a sideways glance. She shrugs and Clyde sniggers.

As Clyde offers me several lighter balls to try, I watch out of the corner of my eyes as Wade bowls a beautiful strike. Twice. ‘You’ve known him for a long time?’ I ask.

Clyde nods and the smile on his face reminds me of a proud father watching his well-accomplished son. ‘Couldn’t bowl a lick when he came in here the first time. Don’t know why he chose bowling over anything else. But I showed him the basics, and Crittenden being who he is, it didn’t take him long. Tried to get him to bowl with a league. Thought it would be good for him – you know some social interaction. He told me …’ Clyde chuckles, ‘Well what he told me wasn’t very nice, but made it very clear that he didn’t bowl to be social.’

We both watch as he leans close and whispers something to Carla, who laughs congenially and musses his hair before rising to bowl her own strike. Clyde nods and his smile broadens considerably. ‘That one, well, she’s way better for him than any bowling league. Take the fact that he invited you along to bowl, KD. That young woman can cajole him and pester him and tease him in ways I’ve never seen anyone do. I mean even Ellis Thorne knows not to cross the line with Crittenden, and they’re best friends. But it’s like, well it’s like with Carla, there is no line.’

‘You think he’s a better person for having her in his life?’ I ask, choosing a pretty blue ball with sparkles that may actually be too light, but the way I bowl, I doubt it’ll matter much.

‘Nah,’ he says, watching Carla deal surgically with a difficult split. ‘He’s always been a good person. Might have taken her to show him that. I’ve seen a lot of teamwork here on league nights. Some teams just click, and they win even when they lose. These two, well they’re like that together. They’re a team.’

‘It’s your turn, KD,’ Wade calls over his shoulder. I return to find him sharing a package of Ding Dongs with Carla.

‘You want one?’ Carla asks. ‘I have another package.’

I take the precious gift of junk food assuring myself that though I don’t usually eat such empty calories and I don’t have the metabolism these to do, it’s a special occasion and, let’s face it, sometimes the emptier the calories, the better they taste.

bowling 1This time my bright blue ball takes a swath right out of the middle of the pins and I take a bow to the cheers from my audience of three. However I may well have taken my kudos too soon as the second attempt hits the floor with a kathunk and then promptly gutters.

‘Never mind,’ Carla says. ‘Here, eat your Ding Dongs, and you’ll feel better.’ She’s right. I do.

‘So, back to work on the photovoltaic prototype after bowling?’ I ask Wade.

He’s just bowled another strike and we both watch Carla position herself. ‘Nope. We’re heading over to Stacie’s Clear-cut after this.’

‘Oh? How’s that going, the re-planting, I mean.’

We watch Carla bowl a split with a ball that curved just slightly too much to the right at the last minute. Clyde tells me that. I would have had no clue why. Carla calls the ball a few choice names and waits at the return.

‘In spite of the planting and the careful management,’ Wade says, returning to the topic of the clear-cut, there are still problems with erosion when we get heavy rains.’ He shrugs broad shoulders. ‘We always get heavy rains here, so I’ve designed a new type of ground cover that I hope will help.’

‘And I’m coming along to take a few photos and catch the story.’ Carla says, plopping down next to Wade. ‘Something that’ll fight erosion in a place with massive rainfall is big news.’

‘Almost as big as illegal cage fighting,’ Wade says with a twitch of a smile.

She shrugs. ‘Well if the inventor of the new ground cover will traipse around on the hillside in shiny shorts and no shirt, it would be a toss-up.’

Clyde and I snigger, and Wade waves me to take the floor with a quirk of a smile.

We bowl four games, and by the end, I’ve actually managed two Ding Dongs, a bag of Doritos and a Snickers Bar. Oh, and three strikes! Well a girl needs her strength to keep up with Wade and Carla in Clyde’s bowling alley.

Wade and Carla drop me in the parking garage at the Pneuma Building. I say my good-byes and wish the two well at the clear-cut. They both give me hugs and congratulations. Before they leave, Wade turns to me and offers me a rare full smile. ‘I’m looking forward to Carla reading the next chapter of your book to me. But that’ll have to wait till tonight,’ he glances over his shoulder at Carla who is now talking to one of her fathers security men, ‘Tonight after we’re home alone. It’s the Chinese food chapter, she tells me. Not for public consumption.’ Wade Crittenden actually winks at me … around a heroic blush, then he turns, pulls Carla in close to his side and I watch the two disappear into the Dungeon entrance from the parking garage.

 

The Interviewing Wade Blog Tour and Giveaway Begins Tomorrow, the 23rd. For the next two weeks find Carla, Wade and me on these fabulous blogs

Mar 23   L. C. Wilkinson   http://lcwilkinson.com/ Wade_teaser

Mar 24   Jan Graham http://jangraham.blogspot.com/

Mar 25   Lynelle Clark http://lynelleclarkaspiredwriter.blogspot.com/

Mar 26   Nice Ladies, Naughty Books http://niceladiesnaughtybooks.com/

Mar 27   Love Bites & Silk Ties http://www.lovebitessilkties.co.uk/

Mar 30   Books and Banter   http://locglin.blogspot.com/

Mar 31   Case Sharidan   http://casesheridan.wordpress.com/

Apr 1   Lisabet Sarai http://lisabetsarai.blogspot.com

Ap 2   Gale Stanley http://galestanley.blogspot.com/

Ap 3   Illustrious Illusions http://www.illustriousillusions.com/

 

Interviewing Wade is An Executive Decision novel

(Click Here for Book One | Book Two | Book Three)

The Executive Decisions Trilogy may be over, but the story continues. Intrepid reporter, Carla Flannery, wants to interview Wade Crittenden, the secretive creative genius behind Pneuma Inc. But when, against all odds, Wade actually agrees to the interview, Carla suspects ulterior motives.

Carla has made a lot of enemies in her work and when Wade discovers she’s being stalked, he agrees to the interview to keep her close and safe. As the situation turns deadly, lives and hearts are on the line, and the interview reveals far more about both than either ever expected.

 

Excerpt:

‘What do you want, Carla?’ His abrupt change of subject derailed her before she could get started on her well-deserved rant. Who the hell did he think he was anyway? It was just an act of kindness, nothing more. Surely he wasn’t too stupid to see that. She watched, speechless as he hopped up and lobbed a killer ball that would have been devastating if it hadn’t guttered half way down the lane and rolled benignly the rest of the way to the soundtrack of half-hissed curses that would have hurt a sailor’s ears. She had no idea until last night that Wade Crittenden had such a colourful vocabulary. She watched his shoulders rise and fall in what she thought was the nerd’s last-ditch effort at some calming Zen. Then he took a deep breath and spoke without looking at her. ‘What do you want?’ He repeated.

Thanks to Devon’s poorly-timed call, it was far to late to sweeten him up, so she’d just have to go for it and hope for the best. She took a deep breath and said. ‘I want to interview you.’ She stuffed the notebook back into her shoulder bag, shoved it onto the seat and coming to stand by his side as he waited for the ball to return.

‘No,’ he replied, calmly taking up the ball and this time sending it waltzing right down the centre of the lane for a slo-mo strike.

‘Oh it’s not about last night. You’ve already said plenty about last night. It’s about Pneuma Inc. I’ve already interviewed Dee and Ellis.’

‘Then you don’t need to interview me. They know everything I know.’

‘Oh I got great stuff from them, but people want to know about the genius behind Pneuma Inc, the mystery man. Come on, Wade, I promise I’ll be gentle.’

She gave a little squeak of surprise as he grabbed her by the lapel of her shirt, led her unceremoniously back to the seat and pushed her gently down in it. ‘No,’ he said. Then he grabbed the ball and bowled yet another strike.

‘You’re pretty good,’ she said.

‘I’m better when no one is bothering me.’ He tapped his fingers on the ball return in a definite ‘get-lost-Carla’ rhythm.

‘Look,’ she shoved out of the seat and came to his side again. ‘You’ve been hounding me to be a good girl, to play it safe, to stay out of danger, well…’

He picked up the returned ball and took his stance, with her standing right beside him.

‘What could be safer than me interviewing the mysterious Wade Crittenden of Pneuma Inc?’ She followed on his heels bowling 3as he positioned himself, took three quick steps and let the ball go. She nearly rear-ended him at his quick stop.

He turned suddenly and she found herself cheek to chest with him. They were both breathing much harder than their little bowling waltz demanded. Then, fuck if he didn’t lift her bodily over his shoulders, carry her back to the chair and drop into it like an oversized sack of potatoes before the ball flattened all the pins. Again. With a hand on either side of the chair, trapping her there, he held her gaze, nearly nose to nose. ‘I may be a lot of things, Flannery, but I’m not safe.’ Before she could protest further, he turned and bellowed, ‘Clyde, Ms Flannery’s leaving. Show her out please. And then lock the damned door.’

 

Interviewing Wad is available from:

Amazon UK

Amazon US

Amazon AU

Amazon CA

 

Interviewing Wade Launch Day Celebratory Breakfast with Wade & Carla

Interviewing WadeIt’s the first day of spring! Flowers are blooming, birds are singing and, at long last, it’s launch day for Wade and Carla! I’ve been waiting for it, readers have been waiting for it and though, at first, Wade wasn’t keen on letting his story be known, thanks to Carla’s cajoling and teasing, he finally agreed. It’s totally true! Still waters do run deep, and the currents you don’t see beneath the surface can be very wild and dangerous indeed.

To celebrate, Wade has invited me to the Dungeon for breakfast. Carla’s cooking. Just so you know; both Wade and Carla are sort of … well … food Philistines. Wade has downloaded all the apps for his favorite take-out and delivery places, and he knows all the really good ones in and around Portland. Carla knows all the local drive-throughs and can eat just about any meal that can be ordered from a ‘to-go’ menu while driving in Portland traffic and doing an interview on her cell phone, but don’t tell her father that. He’s in the security business and wishes his daughter would be a little more safety-conscious. Since both Carla and Wade have the metabolism of mountain goats, I’m not expecting health food.

I find Carla in the kitchen of the Suite, dressed in jeans and a blue Portland State t-shirt, her hair caught up in a sloppy ponytail. She’s manning the toaster. Surrounded by half a dozen open boxes of various flavors of Pop Tarts. She smiled up at me and nearly misses a pair of Pop Tarts as they catapult into the air.

‘Hi K D! Congratulations! Help yourselves to the Pop Tarts.’ She nods to a platter near the microwave. ‘Those are already buttered. There are four different kinds, but I forgot what’s where. It’ll be a surprise.’ Then she adds, ‘I was going to make scrambled eggs and bacon, but I had a phone interview run long with someone on the East Coast for an article I’m doing on illegal cage fighting on the East Coast.

‘Don’t worry about the eggs, Carla’s the Pop Tart Queen,’ Wade says, coming up behind her and kissing her ear just as the coffee maker on the counter stops gurgling. He’s wearing his usual baggy black hoodie and faded jeans. ‘She puts butter on ‘em and melts it in the microwave. Excuse me, K D. I’m making coffee.’ He shoves his way past us to the steaming carafe and pulls out three enormous mugs with the Pheuma Inc logo from the cupboard. I watch in fascination as he rips open three packets of cocoa mix and dumps them into the cups. He notices I’m looking and offers a twitch of a smile. ‘It’s Carla’s recipe. Coffee and Cocoa together.’ As he slops coffee into each of the cups with one hand, he reaches a long arm up to the top shelf and pulls down a huge jar of Marshmallow Cream.

‘The Marshmallow Cream’s Wade’s idea,’ Carla says, watching him stir each cup and plop a mound the size of a snowball on top of the mixture. That done he hands us each one and nods to the table. Carla grabs the big platter of Pop Tarts ala Microwave and follows.

Once I’ve selected a very well buttered blueberry Pop Tart, and I can’t keep from smiling.

‘What?’ Wade says. ‘You were expecting eggs Benedict? You know we’re all busy around here.’

‘No!’ I reply. ‘This is exactly what I was expecting, and I can’t think of anything more appropriate than Pop Tarts and Chocolate Coffee to launch your book, Wade.’

Pop Tarts 2‘I can,’ Carla says. She disappears into the kitchen and returns with a huge bakery box. ‘Dee’s secretary, Sandra, brought these down for us, in honor of the occasion.’ She opens box to display some of the most succulent pastries I’ve ever seen, and some of the biggest, fattest chocolate éclairs on the planet. I can’t help it. I moan, and Wade and Carla both nod knowingly. ‘The éclairs, they’re perfect with the coffee,’ Wade says.

‘What could be better with chocolate and coffee than more chocolate and some whipped cream,’ Carla says. She takes a huge bite of her éclair, managing the suggestive spurt of whipped cream with a quick flick of her tongue.

I’m halfway through my éclair before I get up the courage to ask. ‘So, have you read the book yet?’

‘I have,’ Carla says. ‘She gives Wade a chocolatey kiss on the cheek. ‘Wade never reads anything that’s been written about him, but you know that.’

Before I can respond, he adds. ‘Carla’s reading it to me, though. It’s amazing I ever get anything done around her,’ he grumps. ‘She’s always hounding me to read the next chapter.’

Carla elbows him in the ribs, but I see the twitch of a smile at the corner of his lips, and I can’t keep from smiling back. ‘Thank you, Wade, for letting me write it.’

He’s trying hard not to smile now. ‘I figured I’d better let you have your fun, or you’d never leave me alone and let me get back to work. I’d like to finish the photovoltaic cell prototype before Christmas, you know.’ He shoves half a Pop Tart in his mouth.

I turn my attention to Carla, who is grazing her way through a luscious looking pastry filled with lemon cream. ‘And thank you. I know your part in the story was no easier than Wade’s, and I don’t mind telling you, you scared the hell out of me a few times.’

‘She’s good at that,’ Wade interjects, sliding a proprietary arm around her shoulders.

The blush is so visible up over her porcelain Celtic cheeks and in between the smattering of freckles. ‘I’m used to hard stories,’ she says. ‘I’m a journalist, remember?’ Then she changes the topic. ‘I want some chocolate milk. Anyone else want some chocolate milk?’

eclairI decline, but Wade is happy to take her up on her offer, pulling her down on his lap when she returns from the refrigerator and hands him a carton. I can’t keep from thinking how nice it is to see him so relaxed. She musses his dark hair, which just touches the collar of his hoodie, and he gives her a squeeze, then they both turn to me. ‘Good luck with the book, KD,’ she says. He nods.

Wade glances down at his watch. ‘I’ve asked Clyde open the bowling alley this morning. Thought maybe you’d like to celebrate with us over a couple of frames. You do bowl, don’t you?’

‘Not well,’ I reply, ‘but I’d love to join you anyway.’

‘Good,’ he says. ‘Finish your breakfast and I’ll tell Clyde to expect us.’

  *****

The Interviewing Wade Blog Tour and Giveaway Begins Monday, the 23rd on these fabulous blogs

 Mar 23   L. C. Wilkinson   http://lcwilkinson.com/

Mar 24   Jan Graham http://jangraham.blogspot.com/

Mar 25   Lynelle Clark http://lynelleclarkaspiredwriter.blogspot.com/

Mar 26   Nice Ladies, Naughty Books http://niceladiesnaughtybooks.com/

Mar 27   Love Bites & Silk Ties http://www.lovebitessilkties.co.uk/

Mar 30   Books and Banter   http://locglin.blogspot.com/

Mar 31   Case Sharidan   http://casesheridan.wordpress.com/

Apr 1   Lisabet Sarai http://lisabetsarai.blogspot.com

Ap 2   Gale Stanley http://galestanley.blogspot.com/

Ap 3   Illustrious Illusions http://www.illustriousillusions.com/

*****

INTERVIEWING WADE: An Executive Decision novel

(Click Here for Book One | Book Two | Book Three)

The Executive Decisions Trilogy may be over, but the story continues. Intrepid reporter, Carla Flannery, wants to interview Wade Crittenden, the secretive creative genius behind Pneuma Inc. But when, against all odds, Wade actually agrees to the interview, Carla suspects ulterior motives.

Carla has made a lot of enemies in her work and when Wade discovers she’s being stalked, he agrees to the interview to keep her close and safe. As the situation turns deadly, lives and hearts are on the line, and the interview reveals far more about both than either ever expected.

Excerpt:

Carla popped the last of her bacon into her mouth and spoke around it. ‘So tell me, is Fort Flannery as unassailable as my father assured me, or are we in need of an upgrade?’

He drained his glass of orange juice and pushed back from the table. ‘Your father did a good job. I didn’t have to do hardly anything.’

‘He’ll be glad to hear that,’ she said. ‘Sorry you had to waste your valuable time in the wee hours. I know how busy you are.’

‘Yes, well, it was on my mind. If you’ll let me see your Android, I’ll give it a little upgrade too.’

‘Will I be able to watch Russian porn on it?’ she asked.

‘Japanese and Chinese porn as well, if you like.’ There was that quirk of a smile that she really would love to eat right off his face.

‘And I’ll assume you’ve given it a test-drive.’

To her delight, the smile didn’t disappear, even though the blush was hot on those chiseled cheeks. ‘I’m my own best guinea pig.’

‘Wade Crittenden, that borders on too much information, but in the interest of consumer protection and all, I thank you.’ The blush grew, but the smile stayed put as she offered him a salute and went into her bedroom to get the device.

She returned to find that he’d shed his hoodie and was filling the sink with soapy water, his broad back mantling the counter like a giant bird of prey. For a second her stomach bottomed at the sight of Wade Crittenden doing dishes at her sink. She stood, Android crushed to her chest, feeling flushed and slightly off-balance. His t-shirt was a loose fit, misshapen and short in the back from too many washings for something that should have migrated to the rag drawer some time ago, and when he reached across the sink to add still more soap, the shirt rode up to reveal the slim line of his back and the muscles where his hips joined his torso just above the swell of his buttocks. The baggy jeans gave enough of an intimation of that swelling to leave Carla breathless and hot enough to want to throw off her own hoodie and splash herself with the soapy water in which he was nearly elbow-deep.

As though he sensed her watching, he turned, slopped water down the front of his shirt and onto his jeans and uttered a surprised curse.

Without thinking she rushed to his side, dropping the device on the table. ‘You don’t have to do that,’ she managed, in a breathless gasp. ‘Sometimes I go for weeks without ever washing so much as a coffee cup.’ She stretched around him, grabbed for a dish towel and offered it to him instead of patting him dry herself, which was what she really wanted to do.

He reached for the towel, holding her gaze. ‘You cook for me, I do the cleanup for you. Fair’s fair.’ His hand slid into the cloth and around her fingers as he drew it to his chest. His breath caught, his lips parted as though to speak, and God help her, she couldn’t resist, she leaned into him on tippy-toe and planted a kiss firmly on his mouth. She only meant for it to be a friendly peck, a way of saying thanks for checking up on her and for doing the dishes, but his other hand, covered with soapy water, swooped in and grabbed the front of her hoodie reeling her to him. Then he curled his fingers in the tangle of her wild hair and cradled the back of her head, pulling her still further up on her toes. ‘Oh God,’ he whispered, his tongue darting deep, his lips, soft and hard and bruising all at the same time, meeting hers in a clash of wills and a heroic effort to get closer and deeper. ‘Oh God, Carla, why did you do that,’ he gasped against her mouth.

‘Just being friendly,’ she managed, before the tongue sparring got serious. He gave the towel a toss and yanked down the zipper of her hoodie, shoving it off onto the floor, his hands skimming her breasts in his efforts, thumbs lingering to rake her nipples that were already painful in their peaking. His jeans might have been loose, but they were not loose enough to disguise his erection, and he didn’t seem to care. Both hands slid to cup her bottom and he lifted her, settling her onto the kitchen table, pushing her legs apart with his knees and moving in between her thighs as she went to work on his fly.

‘I have lots of friends,’ he breathed. ‘None of them do that to me.’

‘How about this,’ she said biting his lower lip and sliding her hand down inside his boxers. ‘Do they do this?’

‘No,’ he returned the nip. ‘Never, none of them.’ For a second he faltered. ‘Carla, I –’

‘Shut up, Wade. I don’t wanna hear it.’ This time she bit his tongue before she took his hand and guided it down into her baggy sweat bottoms and into her own boxers.

Interviewing Wad is available from:

Amazon UK

Amazon US

Amazon AU

Amazon CA

 

Out Now – Cowboy Up 2 Boxed Set!

CowboyUp2GroupBundle_800px

Saddle Up with the best-selling authors who brought you Cowboy Up… And fall for Six more Cowboys ready to steal your heart!

Amazon: http://amzn.to/1HsUw5n

Amazon.co.uk: http://amzn.to/1E8aKQj

releaseblitzbutton_cowboyup2

Good Ride, Cowboy by Allison Merritt

Sometimes all you need is one good ride to clear your head.

Thanks to her ex-boyfriend, Sommer Allen’s life is in shambles. She’s headed home to Courtland, Texas for her sister’s wedding, but when a quick stop a gas station ruins her plans, she’s left stranded and at the mercy of a handsome cowboy.

Perry Glidewell is on his way back to Texas after winning another championship in the arena versus a bull. When he finds Sommer having a meltdown in the middle of a parking lot, he knows he can’t leave her alone. Since her hometown is near his, it makes sense to hit the road together.

Sommer never imagined falling for a cowboy. His manners and gallant attitude win her over quickly, but with her future uncertain, she’s not quite willing to give her whole heart to Perry. He’ll do whatever it takes to break the walls around Sommer’s heart, because beneath her tough-talking exterior, he sees she’s the type of Texas girl he’s always dreamed of.

 

EXCERPT:

Perry opened the door. “What the hell are you doing? Are you trying to steal my truck?”

She glowered. “Of course not. You snore. I thought I’d be able to sleep out here. I was asleep, until I turned a little and set off the alarm. I’m so sorry.” She handed him the keys and knocked something off the dash.

A lacy bra landed on his bare feet. His gaze shot straight to her chest. Sommer’s t-shirt was tight around her breasts and her nipples made perky bumps in the material.

Perry clenched his teeth. Of all the damn things to notice. He bent down and picked the bra up by the strap. “Think you lost something.”

She snatched the bra out of his hand. “You try sleeping in one of these.”

“Not really my style, sweetheart.”

“It’s not like I have a garment bag to store it in. Anyway, you snore really bad. It’s like the cross between a wood chipper and a rabid lion. I can’t spend the rest of the night listening to you.”

“You could have woke me up instead of alerting the whole world to where we are.” He shook his head. “You’re one strange lady.”

“Am not.” Her lower lip slid out and she folded her arms under her breasts, pushing them up higher.

About Allison Merritt:

A love of reading inspired Allison Merritt to pursue her dream of becoming an author who writes historical, paranormal and fantasy romances, often combining the sub-genres. She lives in a small town  in the Ozark Mountains with her husband and dogs. When she’s not writing or reading, she hikes in  national parks and conservation areas.

Allison graduated from College of the Ozarks in Point Lookout, Missouri with a B.A. in mass communications that’s gathering dust after it was determined that she’s better at writing fluff than hard news.

Blog  |  Facebook  |  Twitter  |  Google+  |  Goodreads  |  Pinterest

 

 

Cowboy in Waiting by Leslie P. Garcia

She’d buried a hero. She wasn’t looking for another. But her cowboy in waiting was far from a hero…

Bury enough dreams, and you’re bound to grow up.

Diana Salas Chester is a rancher’s daughter and a hero’s widow. There isn’t a lot she can’t do, from raising her daughter Gwen to facing down the loss of dream after dream. And then a birthday celebration goes wrong, and Diana winds up in Border Patrol Agent Ray Bennett’s bed.

Not many of her acquaintances approve of Ray “Baby” Bennett. But is he just the cowboy she’s been waiting for? Ray Bennett spent his life running away from the demands of his cowboy brothers and the ranching life. So when he wakes up in bed with his Border Patrol partner’s sister, he doesn’t want the complications. But suddenly the choice isn’t his to make.

 

EXCERPT:

Across from him, Di straightened in her chair. He looked her over appreciatively. The halter dress she wore plunged deeply, the icy blue contrasting with a smooth, even tan that went enticingly lower than he would have expected. Compassion headed toward desire. Hell, toward lust. Maybe if the night went suddenly better…

She tilted her head a little, then shook it. “You…what kind of car do you drive?” she asked abruptly.

“Yellow Corvette.” He waited for the gleam of appreciation.

“Then you’re the idiot in the yellow car!” She closed her fingers around her drink glass so hard he thought it might break, and gulped half the drink before slamming it down again.

“I will never forgive Rachel for this—this nightmare! My best friend? How could she set me up with some stupid, stuck-up, oversexed jerk in a yellow car? Damn you, Rachel!”

He gaped for a moment, then slowly closed his mouth. “Just one thing,” he asked. “Who’s Rachel?”

About Leslie Garcia:

Leslie P. García grew up lost among a crowd of six siblings and a menagerie that included more than twenty horses and ponies, uncounted dogs and cats, possums, raccoons—even a lion and monkeys. Then she moved to Texas, fell in love, was disowned—and embarked on her real adventures, raising 4 children, teaching hundreds, and loving 9 grandkids through forty years of marriage. The fabric of that colorful life has always been writing. In A Cowboy Heart, Leslie celebrates two of her passions—cowboys and the ever present chance at redemption in spite of past mistakes. Leslie loves hearing from readers and can be found all over cyber space, including these places:

Website  |  Facebook  |  Twitter  |  Pinterest  |  E-mail: lesliegarcia2000-author@yahoo.com

 

 

The Heartbroken Cowboy by Melissa Keir

Love isn’t found at the bottom of a bottle…

Johnson O’Neill joined The Heartsong Ranch to escape his addiction. One night at a friend’s wedding, stress causes him to fall off the wagon and into the arms of the woman of his dreams.

Debra Donahue lost her husband to alcohol then pulled herself up by her bootstraps becoming a million-dollar selling real estate agent. One night with a sexy cowboy and a bottle of whiskey, Debra falls hard.

Can an alcoholic cowboy and a brokenhearted woman find love despite their fears? Or will the bottom of a bottle claim another happily ever after?

 

EXCERPT:

“I don’t drink, but could use a strong one, right now. Not this sissy stuff.” He lifted the glass to his lips, downed the contents, and shoved his now-empty champagne flute away before he leaned in toward her. The smell of alcohol on his breath hinted that he’d already had too much to drink. “Know anyone around here with some whiskey?” The dark sapphire of his eyes chilled her. This was a man used to getting what he wanted. “I’d even share.” His voice deepened and became husky with his offer and she shivered.

“I don’t drink with men I don’t know.” Debra stuck out her hand. “I’m Debra, and you are?”

The man grabbed another glass of champagne off a passing waiter’s tray and guzzled the drink in one swallow. “The name’s Johnson O’Neill. Now about that whiskey.” He reached out and drew her up to standing then tugged her in close to him. Wrapping his arm around her back, he moved her body in a slow two-step motion.

Debra gazed into his eyes. “You don’t have to seduce me for the whiskey.” She stepped out of his embrace and put her hands on her hips. She frowned.

“That’s not why I drew you into my arms. You were tapping your foot when I arrived—and I thought you might like a dance. A pretty woman like you shouldn’t be sitting alone.” He stretched his palm out again in a plea.

About Melissa Keir:

Melissa Keir has always wanted to be an author when she wasn’t hoping for a career as a race car driver. Her love of books was instilled by her mother and grandparents who were avid readers. She’d often sneak books away from them so that she could fantasize about those strong alpha males and plucky heroines. In middle school and high school, Melissa used to write sappy love poems and shared them with her friends and still has those poems today! In college her writing changed to sarcastic musings on life as well as poems with a modern twist on fairy tales and won awards for her writing. You can find many of these musings along with her latest releases on her website and blog.

As a writer, Melissa likes to keep current on topics of interest in the world of writing. She’s a member of the Romance Writers of America, Mid-Michigan RWA Chapter, and EPIC. She is always interested in improving her writing through classes and seminars.

Melissa doesn’t believe in down time. She’s always keeping busy. Melissa is a wife and mother, an elementary school teacher, a movie reviewer, an owner of a publishing company as well as an author. Her home blends two families and is a lot like the Brady Bunch, without Alice- a large grocery bill, tons of dirty dishes and a mound of laundry. She loves to write stories that feature happy endings and is often seen plotting her next story.

Website  |  Blog  |  Facebook  | Facebook Page  |  Twitter  |  Goodreads

 

 

Cowboy in Trouble by Autumn Piper

A cowboy on the run and a girl on the rebound make for a messy fling.

Colby may be having the worst day ever. He wakes up at gunpoint, “hired” by a stranger to do a new job he doesn’t want. Worried the load he’s hauling is contraband, he walks off the job once he’s out of sight of his new employer. Running may not be his best plan, but he needs time to find a way out of this mess.

Delta’s day starts off rough when her pickup stalls on the side of the road. Lucky for her, a handsome cowboy comes along and works mechanical magic on the poor old truck. They strike a deal: he’ll help her out around the farm in exchange for a place to lay low for a few days. He turns out to be handy in all the right ways. A real keeper…not that she’s interested in keeping a man right now. She can afford a rebound fling, but nothing more.

Besides, once Colby gets rid of the crime boss breathing down his neck, he’ll hit the trail. A rodeo circuit cowboy from Oklahoma wouldn’t want to stick around on a little farm in Colorado. Or would he?

 

EXCERPT:

The door across the hall opened and by the time she turned around, Colby stood there in nothing but a towel. Hubbahubba, a very small towel, since she kept her nice big ones downstairs and hadn’t remembered to provide him one.

Um. Dripping, mostly naked, and looking as surprised as she felt… Wow. Those shoulders looked even better without a shirt. He had the prettiest eyes. Did guys like their eyes being called pretty? Whatever. Nice green-gray. And oh, how she’d appreciate a wardrobe malfunction right about now, just a little slippage of that towel. Although the healthy bulge beneath might not allow it to slip far.

“Ahem.”

“Er,” she answered ever-so-intelligently. “Sorry.”

“Sorry,” he said at the same time. “Forgot my bag in here.”

Caught leering. Her face must be flame-red. “Thought I had time to make up the bed for you.”

“I’ll just…” He indicated his bag on the floor by the window.

“Oh. Sure.” She stepped aside so he could get to it. Lord, please grant us a wardrobe malfunction…

He picked up his bag without the towel slipping, although she had to say it had soaked up water in some prime spots and clung just right.

As he passed by her, he paused, and she tore her eyes away. Reluctantly. God. Her mother had definitely taught her it was rude to stare. The poor guy probably worried she’d attack him in the night. He was hot enough, it had probably happened before.

“Ditto,” he said.

“Huh?”

With his free hand, he rubbed his thumb over her chin. “Whatever you’re thinking, right back atcha.” Looking up into his eyes was like riding the downhill part of a rollercoaster. Her heart screamed Weeeee!

About Autumn Piper:

Born and raised in itty-bitty Rifle, Colorado, Autumn Piper studiously avoided trouble…but is now inclined toward it, particularly in her novels. She thinks the best things in life are funny, and the runners-up, romantic.

An admitted carb addict, Autumn writes, edits, manages two teenagers, two cats, a box turtle with a huge personality, one husband and many supersize houseplants, and does the cooking and cleaning when forced to.

To sign up for Autumn’s occasional newsletter: http://mad.ly/signups/105424/join

Website  |  Blog  |  Facebook  |  Twitter  |  Goodreads  |  Amazon Page 

 

 

A Cowboy’s Heaven by Sara Walter Ellwood

From the hell of lost love, can they find heaven together?

Katie Chester is alone in the world. After losing her husband and then her parents, she’s left to run Heaven, a thousand-acre ranch encompassing nearly an entire Montana mountain. She rents out a suite of rooms, but ends up with a boarder who shakes her to her foundation.

When Pennsylvanian ex-Army doctor Collin Kirkpatrick lost his wife a year ago, he lost his world. He needs to escape the pain, and where better than in an isolated town in the West? He answers an ad for resident doctor in Evansville, Montana, but is surprised to find Heaven and the angel residing there.

But can they leave their grief and pain in the past to blaze a new path into the future?

 

EXCERPT:

He smirked at her as he sat beside her on the hay bale. “You’re laughing at me.”

“Not at all. You’re actually a pleasant surprise, Dr. Kirkpatrick.”

“I hope in a good way.” He winked at her and quirked his lips up into a lopsided smile, then turned his attention fully on the cow and calf, and leaned over his long legs with his elbow planted on his knees.

The calf suddenly lurched herself onto her back feet and Collin grinned from ear to ear. “She’s a beauty.”

Dear God, he more than surprised her, he overwhelmed her, and yes, it was in a good way. A very good way.

Katie let out a breath and violently shivered. He picked up the discarded blanket and pulled it over her legs. “You’re going to catch your death. Were you out in this cold all day?”

She nodded and swallowed. No way could she tell him that the sensation had nothing to do with the cold, and everything to do with him.

With a deep breath to steady her racing heart, she watched as the calf latched onto one of her mother’s teats and started sucking with loud, hungry pulls.

“We can go inside in a few moments.” Sweet mercy, was that low, husky voice hers?

Collin only nodded as they watched the miracle of life before him.

About Sara Walter Ellwood:

Although Sara Walter Ellwood has long ago left the farm for the glamour of the big town, she draws on her experiences growing up on a small hobby farm in West Central Pennsylvania to write her contemporary westerns. She’s been married to her college sweetheart for over 20 years, and they have two teenagers and one very spoiled rescue cat named Penny. She longs to visit the places she writes about and jokes she’s a cowgirl at heart stuck in Pennsylvania suburbia. Sara Walter Ellwood is a multi-published author and publishes paranormal romantic suspense under the pen name Cera duBois.

Website | Blog | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads | Newsletter Signup

 

 

Cowboy Proud by D’Ann Lindun

She left town to chase her dreams… He stayed and ignored his… Can they find their dreams together?

All Madeline Harper ever wanted was to escape the tight fences of Black Mountain, Colorado. Nothing would stop her from pursuing her goals–not a devoted boyfriend or infant son. Leaving everything behind, she landed her dream job as a Western Girl jeans model. Her sister’s wedding is the only thing that can entice her home. What she learns upon her return shakes her to the core…and changes everything.

For the last five years Shan Ellis’ life has consisted of taking care of his son and being a cowhand on his parents’ ranch. He scarified everything to be a single dad. College. A career. Girls. Now, the one woman he can’t forget is back in town. Can he take a chance, and risk his heart, or steer clear and never know what might have been?

 

EXCERPT:

This is how Shan had always pictured his life.

Doing what he loved with his wife and children.

Like him, Mason lived to be with the horses and cows. Too bad his mother hated the cowboy lifestyle with a passion. Shan couldn’t forget that for a second. Madeline Harper had ripped out his guts once before—he’d be damned if he’d let her do it again. Even if she wore a mile-wide smile and looked as at home on the back of a horse, herding cows as well as any cowgirl she wasn’t happy here. He couldn’t make her love the life, their son or him.

His good mood faded.

Last night, Callie Donovan had all but mounted him on the dance floor. He liked her well enough, but turned down her advances because he couldn’t get his mind off the dark-haired beauty from his past. In the five years since Maddy left town he’d held onto to the hope she’d return.

He was a fool.

Nothing had changed. He wanted a family; she craved fame and fortune.

About D’Ann Lindun:

Falling in love with romance novels the summer before sixth grade, D’Ann Lindun never thought about writing one until many years later when she took a how-to class at her local college. She was hooked! She began writing and never looked back. Romance appeals to her because there’s just something so satisfying about writing a book guaranteed to have a happy ending. D’Ann’s particular favorites usually feature cowboys and the women who love them. This is probably because she draws inspiration from the area where she lives, Western Colorado, her husband of twenty-nine years and their daughter. Composites of their small farm, herd of horses, five Australian shepherds, a Queensland heeler, two ducks and cats of every shape and color often show up in her stories!

D’Ann loves to hear from readers! Please contact her at:

Website  |  Facebook Page  |  Twitter  |  Amazon Page  |  Email:  dldauthor@frontier.net

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Romance and Eroticism by Charlotte Howard (@shy_tiger)

Click here to view the tour schedule

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Thank you for hosting today! Recently I got asked what my idea of romance and eroticism is, so I thought I’d take the time today to answer that question.

I may have a problem – it has been noted by quite a few (male) friends, that I think like a man. This is not a good thing when you’re supposed to be a romance author. I can’t even blame growing up in a male environment because I grew up in a small village, living with my mum and two of my sisters, my dad worked on the oil rigs so was a way a lot. It was a very female-orientated life. Still, I think like a man. Apparently.

I am not a flowers and hearts girl. I’m allergic to lilies and daffodils, well any high pollinating flower, for a start. I’m seriously crap at remembering things like birthdays and anniversaries, and don’t even get me started on Valentine’s Day! I much prefer March 14th… (If you don’t get that reference, ask the nearest man.) A romantic night in, as far as I’m concerned, involves a takeaway curry, a cup of tea, and a good action or thriller movie. If it has Channing Tatum or Will Smith in it, that would be a bonus.

Eroticism… Well maybe I’m more female on this one… What do I find erotic? Fit, sexy, and tattooed. Think Steve McGarrett (Hawaii Five-O), Agent Booth (Bones) or Oliver Queen (Arrow). Muscles and ink, and I’m weak at the knees. It’s terrible when I go to the gym – to get fit, obviously – and am surrounded by these hot hunks. But eroticism isn’t just about the person is it? It’s about the situation, the surroundings.

I’m a sucker for a powerful man. Now I’m not saying I want to be thrown onto the bed and tied down, but there is nothing more erotic than a man who knows what he wants, and knows how to get it. No, I’m not talking about any varying shades of gray. I’m talking strong, determined, and sane. I do not want a broken piece of china that needs gluing back together. I want Kevlar. I want someone who can look after me. A knight in shining armour on his glorious steed.

Romance and eroticism don’t have to wear a business suit or high heels. They can easily come in a pair of scruffy jeans and work boots. And that is what I hope I put into The Final Straight. Max is as far from business-like as possible, but he is still a force to be reckoned with. April is not your make-up wearing, mini-skirt clad, broken girl. She wears boots and a riding hat, but she’s still a hot woman. AJ… Well he’s AJ, and you’ll just have to read the book to find out what he’s like.

 

The Final Straight by Charlotte HowardExcerpt:

“I should go,” April yawned, watching as he scraped food into the bin and placed plates into the dishwasher.

“You’re staying the night,” he insisted.

“We’ve been through this a hundred times,” she sighed. Her hands waved between them. “This can never happen.”

He gave her a disappointed look. “We could have a little bit of fun.” He gave her a playful smile. “You never know what might develop.”

“I should stop drinking around you. Every time…” She didn’t stop him when he grabbed her hips and rocked her from side to side. “You know exactly where it would go. You forget that unlike your bits on the side, I know you. You’ll wake up in the morning and regret it. You’ll try to placate me with empty promises, and then in a couple of months you’ll find someone taller, thinner, and sexier, and I will be left alone.”

“I would never cheat on you,” he said, honesty brimming through the firmness of his voice. “You are the only girl for me.”

“Please don’t,” she said, placing her hands on his chest. “We want different things…”

“Okay.” He kissed the top of her head. “Spare room it is.”

“Thank you.” She stepped back and looked at him. There was a sadness in his dark brown eyes, one that hurt her heart. “We are okay aren’t we?”

“We’re great,” he said with a small smile.

“I couldn’t bear to lose you as a friend. Let’s not get serious again.”

“Okay.” He nodded. They smiled and kissed each other on the cheek; a signature on their unspoken agreement to remain just friends.

 

 

Blurb / Buy Links

April Miller works for her best-friend, Max Knight on his livery and competition yard. Their friendship has withstood many turbulent times, and while April is deeply in love with Max, she is also aware of his womanising ways and has refused to succumb to his flirtatious charms. When her ex, AJ, suddenly comes back with a business proposal, April finds herself torn between the two men.

http://tirgearrpublishing.com/authors/Howard_Charlotte/the-final-straight.htm
http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B00SW7GE26
http://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B00SW7GE26
https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/514851
https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/the-final-straight/id962554508
https://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/ebook/the-final-straight
http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-final-straight-charlotte-howard/1121135931

 

Bio / Links

Charlotte lives in Somerset with her husband, two children, and growing menagerie of pets and can always be found with a cup of tea in her hand. When she’s not writing or running around after small people and animals, she loves to eat curry and watch action films.

Charlotte is an active (and vocal) member of the Yeovil Creative Writers.

www.charlottehowardauthor.co.uk
http://choward2614.wordpress.com
www.facebook.com/charlottehowardauthor
www.facebook.com/chowardauthor
http://tirgearrpublishing.com/authors/Howard_Charlotte/index.htm
www.twitter.com/shy_tiger
https://www.pinterest.com/choward2614/
https://instagram.com/choward_author/

 

GIVEAWAY!

a Rafflecopter giveaway

 

The Final Straight by Charlotte Howard (@shy_tiger)

The Final Straight by Charlotte HowardBlurb:

April Miller works for her best friend, Max Knight on his livery and competition yard. Their friendship has withstood many turbulent times, and while April is deeply in love with Max, she is also aware of his womanising ways and has refused to succumb to his flirtatious charms. When her ex, AJ, suddenly comes back with a business proposal, April finds herself torn between the two men.

 

Buy Links:

Kindle US: http://amzn.to/1Es09Cc

Kindle UK: http://amzn.to/1Dk0h2I

Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/514851?ref=cw1985

Coming soon to all other eBook retailers.

 

releaseblitz_thefinalstraightExcerpt:

“You up there?” she called. The thud of footsteps grew louder as she made her way up the stairs. It wasn’t long before she was in the doorway, hands on hips, surrounded by a halo of curls the same colour as her temper.

The dog had followed and was panting by her leg. April batted her away, and Max rolled his eyes at the anger and frustration that exuded from her every pore, turning his back on her and dropping the towel.

“What the hell, Max?” she exclaimed, but it wasn’t because of his nudity. She’d seen him naked more times than any other woman.

He stepped into a pair of tight boxer shorts and turned around, preparing himself for the grief he had been hoping to avoid. “What have I done now?” he asked, walking towards the wardrobe and pulling out a pair of dark, shredded jeans.

“What’s the point? Do you even remember her name?”

He didn’t answer. She wasn’t expecting him to; she never did. Fastening the button on his waistband, he went to the chest of drawers and took out a clean T-shirt.

“Well, I’ll tell you what her name was,” April said, walking into the room. “Mellie Banks. Ring a bell?”

Max shrugged.

“It should,” she snapped. “Her father has three horses on this yard, or did until he turned up this morning and took them off.”

He moved behind her and started to massage at the knot of tension that had built at the base of her neck.

“Don’t try to appease me, Max,” she said, but he could tell that her anger was waning. He continued to press into her muscles, letting his thumbs make small circles either side of her spine. Bending his head to the curve of her shoulder, he placed his forehead on the sleeve of her polo T-shirt and took a deep breath, inhaling the dusty scent of straw and shavings.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured into her back.

She shrugged out of his touch and turned to face him. “You’re hopeless,” she sighed. The corners of her lips flickered into the smallest of smiles.

“We could just hide in bed all day,” he said, taking her hands and tugging her forwards. “Forget about Mellie Banks. Forget about the yard…”

“And who’s going to pay my bills when this place falls on its arse?”

The edge of the mattress connected with his knees and he fell backwards, pulling her with him. “You know I’ll always take care of you.”

She landed on top of him, inches away from his face. He lifted a hand and tucked a stray red curl behind her ear. With a frustrated groan, she rolled off of him and lay on her side.

“As much as I would like to be the next notch on your bedpost, we have a business to run.” She shoved herself up.

He watched as she straightened her clothes and ran her fingers through her hair.

“Anyway,” she said, glancing over her shoulder. “I’m not your type. I have a brain.” She flashed him a smile before bending down to pick up the towel and tossing it in his direction.

“Ouch.” He feigned a hurt expression before getting up to follow her. Bracken panted around his ankles.

“I’ll make you a coffee, and then if you need me I’ll be saving your business.”

 

Author Bio / Links:

Charlotte lives in Somerset with her husband, two children, and growing menagerie of pets and can always be found with a cup of tea in her hand. When she’s not writing or running around after small people and animals, she loves to eat curry and watch action films.

Charlotte is an active (and vocal) member of the Yeovil Creative Writers.

http://www.charlottehowardauthor.co.uk/
https://www.facebook.com/CharlotteHowardAuthor
https://twitter.com/Shy_Tiger
http://choward2614.wordpress.com/
http://www.pinterest.com/choward2614/
http://instagram.com/choward_author/

 
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The Romance Reviews

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