Wednesday, March 30, 2016

SIX DEGREES OF SCANDAL Scandalous #4 Caroline Linden





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Olivia Townsend is in trouble and out of options. Pursued by a desperate man in search of a lost treasure, which she doesn’t have, she’s got only two things in her favor: her late husband’s
diary, which she was never meant to see… and the man who was her first-and only-love. Losing him broke her heart, though she’s been careful to hide it for the last ten years. But when he comes to her aid and vows to stand by her this time, no matter what, she can’t help but hope things will be different this time.

James Weston has blamed himself for letting Olivia down when she needed him years ago, and he will not do it again. Fortunately, his unusual life has equipped him well to outsmart the villain chasing Olivia. Unfortunately, being so near her again threatens to expose every secret in his heart…even those that
should stay hidden forever.


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Excerpt
James pulled off his boots, and then his stockings, and then—to Olivia’s shock—he climbed up and stood on the highest rock, letting the water foam over his feet and wet his breeches. “Don’t you want to climb up?”
She looked longingly at the rocks. The thought of water running over her feet and ankles was tempting, but not worth it. “I’d get wet, and my mother would be displeased.”
Pity that. It’s great fun.”
Slowly she looked down at her shoes and stockings. Maybe if she held up her skirts, very high . . . But that would also be improper. “I’d better not.”
Oh,” he said in disappointment. “You’re a coward.”
Olivia’s eyes widened. “How rude!”
He shrugged, kicking at the water and sending a spray over the grass. “I can tell you want to get up here but you won’t.”
I’d get all wet . . .”
So walk around until your feet and skirt dry. That’s what my sisters do.”
Olivia stole another look at the frothing stream. “Your sisters climb up there?”
And they’re even younger than you. But if you’re too scared . . .” He started to climb down.
Her mouth firmed. She was not scared. “Those rocks are slippery. I don’t want to fall.”
He grinned as if he knew he’d won. “I’ll hold your hand.”
And he did. Olivia peeled off her stockings and slippers, folded up her skirts as high as she dared—all the way above her knees—and carefully stepped into the water. She gasped at the cold initially, but it was a hot day and soon the water felt blissful. James held her hand as promised and coaxed her to stand on the topmost rock at the edge of the waterfall. She balanced on the wide flat stone and a grin spread across her face. The water rushed over her toes and ankles and she thought she’d never done anything this daring in her whole life. “How did I never discover this?”
Still holding her hand, James laughed. “Good girls stay at home.”
So I’m a bad girl for coming out here?”
No,” he said. “A curious girl. I like that kind.”
That allayed Olivia’s moment of worry. Curious didn’t sound so terrible. She exchanged a tentative smile with James.
When their feet had gone numb, he helped her climb down and back onto the grass.
Do you play dolls still?” he asked as he put his boots back on.
Olivia shook out her skirts, relieved to see that she had kept dry except for a small spot on one side. “Sometimes.”
Good. Follow me.” He started off.
Mr. Weston!”
He turned at her indignant cry. “Call me Jamie. James if you must. You might as well come meet my sisters, who drove me from the house today with begging me to play dolls. My mother said I had to entertain them but they don’t like the way I play dolls.” He made an aggrieved expression. “Why can’t a doll put on a fine dress and then have a sword fight with another doll? What else have dolls got to do all day?” He shrugged. “You probably know better how to do it the way they want.”
But—I can’t—”
Why not?”
I can’t go into town without permission,” Olivia finally said. Privately she was curious to meet the Westons. Her parents didn’t view most of the local families as their equal, and Olivia and Daphne weren’t allowed much contact with other children. And even though she didn’t spend as much time with dolls as Daphne did, she wasn’t immune to wanting to see the Weston girls’ dolls, which were sure to be much finer than anything at Kellan Hall. But if Mother saw her, she’d be in such trouble.
He grinned as if sensing another victory. “We don’t live in town anymore. We took possession of Haverstock House this week, right over the hill.”
Her eyes popped open. Haverstock House was the finest house in the county, and lay between Kellan Hall and town. It belonged to the elderly Earl of Malke, who rarely visited since his wife’s death. Now the Westons owned it?
I expect my mother will call on your mother soon, now we’re neighbors,” he went on. “Will she let you come visit then?”
Olivia doubted it. “Perhaps.”
Jamie Weston flashed his confident grin once more. “I’ll wager a copper penny she will.”







Caroline Linden  was born a reader, not a writer.
She earned a math degree from Harvard University and wrote computer software before turning to writing fiction. Ten years, twelve books, three Red Sox championships, and one dog later, she has never been happier with her decision.

Her books have won the NEC Reader’s Choice Beanpot Award, the Daphne du Maurier Award, and RWA’s RITA Award. Since she never won any prizes in math, she takes this as a sign that her decision was also a smart one. Visit her online






ONCE BURNED Firehouse Fourteen #1 Lisa B. Kamps





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Michaela Donaldson had her whole life planned out: college, music, and a happy-ever-after with her first true love. One reckless night changed all that, setting Michaela on a new path. Gone are her dreams of pursuing music in college, replaced by what she thinks is a more rewarding life. She's a firefighter now, getting down and dirty while doing her job. So what if she's a little rough around the edges, a little too
careless, a little too detached? She's happy, living life on her own terms--until Nicky Lansing shows back up.

Nick Lansing was the stereotypical leather-clad bad boy, needing nothing but his fast car, his guitar, his never-ending partying, and his long-time girlfriend--until one bad decision changed the course of two lives forever. He's on the straight-and-narrow now, living life as a respected teacher and
doing his best to be a positive role model. Yes, he still has his music. But gone are his days of partying. And gone is the one girl who always held his heart. Or is she?

One freak accident brings these two opposites back together. Is ten years long enough to heal the physical and emotional wounds from the past? Can they reconcile who they were with who they've become--or will it be a case of Once Burned is enough?




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Excerpt
"Oh shit," Mike repeated under her breath, too horrified to do anything more than force herself to breathe. Not an easy task, considering she was literally frozen to the spot. The air was thick with heated tension and the buzzing in her ears made it impossible for her to hear anything. She willed herself to move, to do something.
Shit, it's Nicky. Shit, it's Nicky. The phrase kept spinning through her mind until she thought she'd be sick with the dizziness of it. Her chest heaved, like she was breathing water instead of air, and her pulse beat in a crazy tap dancer's rhythm.
Did anyone else notice the sudden change in the room? Mike looked away from that face from her past and quickly glanced around. Four sets of eyes fixed on her with varying degrees of bewilderment. She could still feel his eyes on her, too, filled with stunned disbelief.
Feeling like she was trapped in a nightmare where everything moved with the speed of molasses, Mike pushed away from the counter and walked across the room, straight past the frozen figure of Nicky Lansing and through the swinging door. She turned a corner and rushed through a second door that opened into the engine room, not stopping until she reached the engine on the far side, where she promptly collapsed on the back step.
Heedless of the dirt and grime, she let her head drop against the back compartment door, ignoring the length of hose line in her way. Her breathing came in shallow gasps that did nothing to help the lightheadedness that caused black dots to dance across her closed lids.
Hyperventilating. She was hyperventilating. The calm, rational part of her—she was surprised she still had one—told her to lean forward, to get a grip on herself and her breathing. Now bent over, sitting with her head between her knees, Mike grabbed the running board with both hands and concentrated on the feel of the diamond plate cutting into her palms.
The spots faded away and her breathing slowed to something closer to normal. One last deep breath and she straightened, only to choke on a scream when she came face-to-face with Jay, his brows lowered in a frown as he studied her with concern.
"Jesus! Don't scare me like that!" She pushed him away then stood, only to sit back down when she realized how bad her knees were shaking.
"Scare you? What is wrong with you? Are you okay?"
"I'm fine. I couldn't be better! Don't I look fine?"
"You look like you're ready to pass out. What the hell is going on? Do you know that guy? He looks like he's seen a ghost!"
"He probably thinks he has." Mike moved over and motioned for Jay to sit down, ignoring his scrutiny as he twisted sideways and continued staring at her.
"Are you going to explain that?"
"No." She ran her hands through her hair, muttering when she pulled a thick hank of it loose from the pony tail. Sighing, she reached back and pulled the elastic band loose, then quickly rearranged her hair into a more secure hold. Jay watched her intently then nudged her leg with his when she continued to ignore him.
"Well?"
"Well nothing. He's just somebody I used to know, that's all."
Jay snorted. "Bull."
"Okay, fine," she conceded grudgingly. "He's also somebody I never wanted to see again." Mike reached down and gingerly touched her right side, trying not to remember but unable to forget. If Jay noticed the motion, he didn't say anything.
They sat in silence, the familiar background noises of the station virtually unnoticed. A few minutes went by before Jay spoke again. "You sure you don't want to talk about it?"
Mike shook her head, ready to make a sarcastic reply when the sound of footsteps echoed through the engine room. The steps paused, then changed directions and hesitantly walked around the side of the engine. Mike knew without looking who it was: the steps were those of a stranger, someone who didn't know his way around.
Nicky stopped at the back of the engine, not saying anything as Jay slowly stood and positioned himself slightly in front of Mike, shielding her. She touched his arm briefly, in a gesture both of thanks and of reassurance that she was alright. Jay looked back at her, one brow cocked in question, then reluctantly walked away at her nod. Mike didn't see where he went but knew that he would be close by in case he was needed.
She stood slightly, leaning against the running board, then crossed her arms in front of her, covering the jagged scar that ran along her left forearm. The stance was as close to aloof and detached as she could manage considering her insides were making a milkshake of her early dinner. Too late, she remembered the sunglasses hanging around her neck and wished she would have thought to put them on to hide any emotion in her eyes.
With an effort that took more strength than she wanted to admit, she let her eyes slowly, coolly rake the man in front of her from top to bottom.
Dammit. The Nicky Lansing from her past had been ruggedly handsome with dark looks and boyish charm; this Nick Lansing was dangerously gorgeous. A little taller than she remembered, he stood just over six feet, and was definitely broader through the shoulders and chest. The boy she remembered had finally filled out, to all the best advantages.
The long hair of his past was gone, cut to a length that brushed just past the collar of the light blue shirt he wore. Still too long to be squeaky clean, but short enough by today's standards to be rated as acceptable. His eyes were the same, though. A dark chocolate brown framed in long lashes, they invited a person to swim in their depths and lose their soul without a second thought.
She would know, since she had done just that.







Lisa B. Kamps is the author of the best-selling series The Baltimore Banners, featuring "hard-hitting, heart-melting hockey players" (USA Today), on and off the ice. ONCE BURNED is the launch title of her much-anticipated new series, Firehouse Fourteen, featuring hot and heroic firefighters.

Lisa grew up with an overactive imagination, strong encouragement from her parents, and an insatiable infatuation with the Peanuts gang. That infatuation—along with an impatience she has yet to outgrow—jump-started her love of writing. After all, why should she be forced to wait a whole week to
read the stories of her favorite characters when she could create stories for them whenever she wanted?

That love of writing continued to grow, along with all those voices in her head, even during her assorted careers: first as a firefighter with the Baltimore County Fire Department, then a very brief (and not very successful) stint at bartending in east Baltimore, and finally as the Director of Retail Operations for a busy Civil War non-profit.

Lisa currently lives in Maryland with her husband and two sons, one very spoiled Border Collie, two cats with major attitude, several head of cattle, and entirely too many chickens to count.





Tuesday, March 29, 2016

Rising Storm Mid-season 1: AFTER THE STORM by Lexi Blake

Rising Storm - Header banner



Welcome to Storm, Texas, where passion runs hot, desire runs deep, and secrets have the power to destroy...

Nestled among rolling hills and painted with vibrant wildflowers, the bucolic town of Storm, Texas, seems like nothing short of perfection.

But there are secrets beneath the facade. Dark secrets.  Powerful secrets. The kind that can destroy lives and tear families apart.  The kind that can cut through a town like a tempest, leaving jealousy and destruction in its wake, along with shattered hopes and broken dreams. All it takes is one little thing to shatter that polish.

Reading like an on-going drama in the tradition of classic day and night-time soap operas like Dallas, Dynasty, and All My Children, Rising Storm is full of scandal, deceit, romance, passion, and secrets.

With 1001 Dark Nights as the “producer,” Julie Kenner and Dee Davis use a television model with each week building on the last to create a storyline that fulfills the promise of a drama-filled soap opera. Joining Kenner and Davis in the “writer’s room” for the Midseason Episodes of this serial opera are bestselling authors Lexi Blake and Larissa Ione who have brought their vision of Storm to life.

So get ready.  The storm is coming.


Rising Storm - Midseason 1


 Secrets, Sex and Scandals …


 Welcome to Storm, Texas, where passion runs hot, desire runs deep, and secrets have the power to destroy…  Get ready.  The storm is coming.

In the wake of Dakota’s revelations, the whole town is reeling. Ginny Moreno has lost everything. Logan Murphy is devastated by her lies. Brittany Rush sees her family in a horrifying new light. And nothing will ever be the same…



The pregnant girl with a hat in the field of wheat on a
sunset

Experience Rising Storm Here…

Rising Storm Midseason Episode 1 (March 29): Lexi Blake’s After the Storm

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Rising Storm Midseason Episode 2 (April 5): Larissa Ione’s Distant Thunder

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Check out this fantastic excerpt from AFTER THE STORM!



“I didn’t know I was pregnant until I woke up from the accident.” Ginny’s voice was an impassioned whisper. “I found out two things that changed my life in that moment. I found out that my best friend was gone and that I was pregnant. And I prayed so hard that I hadn’t lost all of Jacob forever.”

Forever. That’s what she was looking at. She was looking at an entire lifetime of being a mother without a son. She loved her daughters dearly, but she would mourn Jacob forever. And this selfish girl was equating her pain as though they were the same. As though one night of spreading her legs gave her the right to mourn him.

“I think you woke up and realized you had two options. Take care of that baby alone or worm your way into Jacob’s family and his money.”

“I never cared about the money.”

Celeste wasn’t going to listen to that tripe. “Of course you did. Not enough to keep your legs closed. You say you loved Jacob but how long did you wait before you hopped into bed with that Murphy boy? Did you even break it off with my brother-in-law? How many men do you need on your string?”

“I’ve never slept with Logan, but I will admit that I’m in love with him. I love him in a way I never loved Jacob. Jacob was my best friend, but I know now that he wasn’t my soul mate. I pray with everything I am that this is his child, that we receive a miracle because I don’t want him to be lost forever, but I won’t hide what I feel for Logan and I won’t pretend it’s nasty. Not even to placate you, Celeste. I want to make things right between us and that means apologizing to you. Celeste, I’m so sorry I hurt you. I never meant to. I should have been braver. I should have been stronger, but I woke up and the world had crashed around me and I wanted the love you could give me. That all of you could give me. I’m sorry that it brought you so much pain.”

Something about the way she was standing there enraged Celeste. How could she stand there looking so innocent? How could she say exactly the right things to garner empathy? Celeste didn’t want to empathize. She wanted to fight and tear up things and destroy the world around her because it seemed so damn intent on destroying her. She wanted to burn it all down.

She didn’t feel her hand snap back, didn’t quite understand what she was doing. The world seemed tinged in red at the corners as though rage now filtered her vision. And it slowed everything down. In horror she realized she was going to strike Ginny Moreno. Her hand was going to bring justice her words never could.

And then it slapped against flesh. A strong hand circled her wrist and Travis stared down at her like he had no idea who she was.



copyright szefei






Author pic- Lexi Blake

New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Lexi Blake lives in North Texas with her husband and three kids. She began writing at a young age concentrating on plays and journalism. It wasn’t until she started writing romance that she found success. Lexi believes in happy endings no matter how odd the couple, threesome or foursome may seem.

Visit Lexi Blake’s website and follow her on:






Prairie landscapes






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THE FORBIDDEN DUKE: the Untouchables No. 1 by Darcy Burke


BlurbSpinster Miss Eleanor Lockhart is suddenly homeless and employment is her only option. Ruined after succumbing to a scoundrel’s excessive charm nearly a decade ago, she’s lucky to obtain a position as a paid companion and committed to behaving with the utmost propriety. She definitely shouldn’t be in the arms of a man capable of utterly destroying what little remains of her reputation...

Titus St. John, Duke of Kendal, is known as the Forbidden Duke, a mysterious, intimidating figure who enters Society just once each year at his stepmother’s ball. A decade ago, he was a devil-may-care rake until his idle roguery brought about the ruin of Eleanor Lockhart—and his resulting self-imposed isolation. Now she’s back, and she needs his help. But by “saving” her, he may just ruin her life all over again.


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Excerpt:

We need to take our place,” he said, guiding her to the dance floor, where Lord and Lady Satterfield were already in place at the top of the line that was forming. Kendal positioned Nora to stand beside Lady Satterfield so that they were second in the line. The musicians, set in the far corner of the makeshift ballroom, began to play, and panic seized Nora’s chest. Would she remember the steps? Would she make a fool of herself, or worse, of him?
She felt like an imposter in a scenario she’d mistakenly stumbled into. Surely someone would point her out and tell her she needed to leave. She was a pariah, an outcast. She had no place being here, let alone dancing with a duke.
But it was far too late to run away. The dance had started, and the line traveled the length of the drawing room. This dance would last quite some time, during which Nora would be the center of everyone’s attention and the source of everyone’s gossip. She could hear the exchanges now, imagined them starting up and spreading like a freshly-ignited fire.
Look at who he chose. Who is that Nobody?”
Don’t you remember? She ruined herself nine years ago.”
How dreadful.”
Lord and Lady Satterfield started, dancing their way between the lines. They were rather spry, given their age.
Nora nervously looked over at the duke. “Lady Satterfield is an excellent dancer.”
Indeed.” The rich tone of his voice soothed her rioting nerves. “She always insists on calling the first, though it’s the only set she’ll dance.”
Nora nodded. Dancing was typically reserved for the young.
She tried not to stare at her partner, but it was difficult as he was situated directly across from her and she should look at him. Look, yes, but not gape. And he was gape-worthy. His reputation suited him for he seemed forbidden, otherworldly almost. Not in an ethereal way, but in a rustic, rough sort of manner, as if Society couldn’t possibly contain him.
Despite that or perhaps because of it, he wore his costume with ease. However, she suspected he was more comfortable in riding breeches and boots as he galloped his horse across the Lake District—she’d ascertained that was where his seat was located—his powerful thighs hugging the animal’s flanks as they moved as one.
Goodness, where had that astonishing image come from?
And then it was their turn to traverse the line. She prayed she would remember the steps and focused on the music as they moved toward each other.
You look as if you’re headed to the guillotine,” he said just loud enough for her alone to hear.
Do I?” She tried to laugh but was afraid she sounded like a wounded bird. She longed to ask why he’d chosen her and immediately wondered if Lady Satterfield had put him up to it. She decided she didn’t want to know.
It’s just a dance.”
The superbly absurd comment coaxed a genuine smile to her lips and alleviated some of her discomfort. “With the ‘Forbidden Duke’ who only dances once each Season. Yes, you’re quite right to characterize it that way. Thank you for putting me at ease.”
He chuckled, and like his speaking voice, it sparked a tremor that seemed to start in her bones and move outward making her flesh tingle and her chest warm. “Don’t be nervous. And certainly don’t be nervous on my account.” He said the last with a tone so dry, she feared it might curl up and blow away in the breeze.
That is easy for you, a duke, to say. I am just a simple girl who’s been away from London a long time.”
I daresay you aren’t ‘just’ anything.”


Author Info

Darcy Burke is the USA Today bestselling author of hot, action-packed historical and sexy, emotional contemporary romance. Darcy wrote her first book at age 11, a happily-ever-after about a swan addicted to magic and the female swan who loved him, with exceedingly poor illustrations.
A native Oregonian, Darcy lives on the edge of wine country with her guitar-strumming husband, their two hilarious kids-who each seem to have inherited the writing gene in some form-and two Bengal cats. In her "spare" time Darcy is a serial volunteer enrolled in a 12-step program where one learns to say "no," but she keeps having to start over. Her happy places are Disneyland and Labor Day weekend at the Gorge.

Author Links: Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads

MORE THAN A FEELING Heart of the Rockies #3 Sara Richardson





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"Charming, witty, and fun. There's no better read. I enjoyed every word !" --- Debbie Macomber,
#1 New York Times bestselling author on No Better Man




STOP RUNNING . . .AND START FALLING



For Ruby James the Walker Mountain Ranch is her safe haven. Here in Aspen, Colorado, she can finally build a quiet life for herself without fear of her old one rearing its ugly head. Or so Ruby thinks. Any single woman would be happy to indulge a tall, dark, and curious cop-but the closer Ruby gets to him, the closer she gets to losing her newfound peace.



Police officer Sawyer Hawkins is no stranger to secrets. He's ready to leave town for good until a security threat brings him back to Walker Ranch, and Ruby's gorgeous green eyes soon have him second-guessing his decision to go. Her kindness and quiet strength awaken feelings he'd thought long buried, even as her reluctance to talk about her past worries him. The cop in Sawyer only wants the truth-but the man in him
wants Ruby in his arms forever . . . 




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Excerpt
Sawyer…” There was so much she couldn’t tell him. So many reasons she should ask him to leave, to leave her alone. But the ache tightening inside of her would never go away if she didn’t touch him, if she didn’t feel the generous hunger of his lips against hers, the thrilling sensation of his hands reading every curve of her body. So instead of saying anything, instead of casting him out of her life, she scooted to her knees so she could reach his lips, first touching them lightly with her fingers. “You’re a good man, Sawyer Hawkins,” she whispered. And though she knew he couldn’t have her forever, she could give herself to him now. He could have her for this one moment.
His gaze fused with hers, the mesmerizing blue of his eyes smoldering like the center of a flame. His large hands settled on her hips and tugged them until she straddled him.
The swing pitched forward and she wrapped her arms around his neck to keep from losing her balance.
This isn’t why I came here,” he informed her hoarsely.
That’s disappointing,” she breathed against his neck. The stubble made her lips tingle.
Sawyer sighed in a helplessly delicious way and took her chin in his hand, bringing her lips to meet his, brushing them lightly in teasing preview.
Oh, lordy, lordy, lordy…the man could kiss.
He pulled back to look at her, but what good was that? She wanted to feel him against her, solid and safe and warm. So she wrapped her legs all the way around his waist cinching them tighter until the hard bulge of his desire for her pulsed between her legs. It was blinding the way he made her lungs pound, the way he sent her dizzy heart twirling in circles. His touch brought her somewhere else, made her feel like someone else. Someone whole and unbreakable. The person she’d always wanted to be.








Sara Richardson grew up chasing adventure in Colorado's rugged mountains. She's
climbed to the top of a 14,000 foot peak at midnight, swum through Class IV
rapids, completed her wilderness first-aid certification, and spent seven days
at a time tromping through the wilderness with a thirty-pound backpack strapped
to her shoulders. 



Eventually Sara did the responsible thing and got an education in
writing and journalism. After a brief stint in the corporate writing world, she
stopped ignoring the voices in her head and started writing fiction. Now she
uses her experience as a mountain adventure guide to write stories that
incorporate adventure with romance. Still indulging her adventurous spirit,
Sara lives and plays in Colorado with her saint of a husband and two young
sons.












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