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Maybe in Monaco
-- SNEAK PEEK: “So, where are you visiting from?” the taxi driver asked, turning briefly to look at her. Charlotte smiled. “Manhattan.” The driver returned his attention to the road. New York City was another world, Charlotte mused as the car performed a hot lap past the Monte Carlo Casino. A throng of tourists with cameras crossed in front of the taxi, slowing all of the traffic behind it. Perhaps the two cities had some similarities, Charlotte thought. Today, the body of water and anonymity that protected Charlotte was 4,000 miles away. Charlotte was a French teacher at a private school on the Upper East Side, where she put her New York University education to use. Ample time, money, and effort were spent on rebuilding her life—an accomplishment she previously thought unimaginable. What Charlotte accomplished in those ten years astonished her and her grandmother. In Manhattan, Charlotte cultivated a refined and private image. She socialized vigilantly, and her acquaintances consisted mainly of private school colleagues. Though she scarcely noticed, Charlotte was admired and desired by many. Charlotte enticed people with her softness, attentiveness in conversations (aided by her social media avoidance), adoration for anything vintage, and passion for French impressionist art. However, Charlotte’s romantic affairs were often cut short, and she developed a reputation for fleeing when relationships threatened to become too serious or prodding. The men who courted Charlotte inevitably crashed into the walls that guarded her. Privacy was Charlotte’s priority, and the less that people knew about her, the better. She feared the discovery of her imperfections, which lurked beneath every layer. Charlotte preferred blending in to standing out. As usual, she was dressed in simple, high-quality items, which she—or her relatives—had owned for years. Her haphazardly-piled, classic travel bags were passed down from Charlotte’s late mother, and her antique camera and matching leather bag belonged to her late father. Contrary to her intention, Charlotte’s subtleties spawned second glances. Strangers couldn’t help noticing the authentic glamour of her well-worn Hermes handbag, slightly upturned nose, chestnut blunt cut grazing her freckled collarbones, and sparkling eyes that never gave anything away. Slowly, Charlotte’s destination crept into sight. Le Soleil was a luxury condominium with coastal views of the Côte d’Azur. Charlotte dreaded stepping out of the car, and wondered if returning was a dire mistake. “Monaco is my home,” she silently repeated, as she promised herself she would. The driver slowed to a stop, and carefully unloaded the aged Keepalls onto the unblemished cobblestone. Charlotte remained still for a few more moments, summoning enough willpower to open the door. Once she touched her feet to the ground, the truth would land. She was in Monaco. The trunk of the cab shut with a thud that rocked the whole vehicle. Taking a few deep breaths, Charlotte opened the door and set one ballet flat onto the pavement. She was home. The suitcases appeared smaller and fewer to Charlotte when she left Manhattan. The driver gawked at the mountain of luggage that now blocked the sidewalk. “That’s everything,” Charlotte lied, for the driver knew not of her heaviest baggage, smuggled into Monaco upon her freckle-dusted shoulders. Charlotte paid the driver and watched as the car faded into a sea of traffic. She glanced helplessly at the unattended concierge desk and sighed. Keeping a watchful eye on her remaining belongings, Charlotte hauled her luggage into the air-conditioned lobby. She was no stranger to strenuous labor, but her arms ached and her breath grew heavier with each bag. Ten years since she stepped foot on that cobblestone sidewalk. Ten years since she left the country—and the person—she loved. Ten years since she fled with two hearts beating inside of her. Ten years, and she was still wondering if she made the right decision. Ten years, she kept a secret. But it was very hard to keep a secret in Monaco. 
GIVEAWAY! -- #Book Blitz #Making the Deal by Shelby MacKenzie #Contemporary Romance @Xpresso Book Tours25/10/2022
Making the Deal
Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / Kobo -- SNEAK PEEK: Chapter 1: He was late. Ray tapped her nails on the side of her water glass and glanced again at her notes while she sat in the Tulip Tavern. She hated tardiness on a typical day, but it was incredibly irritating today. Today was the day she planned to put her merger to bed. Rayna Raven-or Ray, as she preferred- worked tirelessly for the last eight years to get to this moment. And she did not appreciate the extra wait. She casually looked down at the bar, where she saw a delicious-looking man. He looked like he walked straight in off the beach. His tousled sandy blond hair and stormy blue eyes mirrored the sand and surf a couple of blocks down from Tulip. She pictured him towering over her and wrapping his muscular arms around her. Stop. She needed to focus on closing the deal. No way was that man Jax McKells. Too bad! She was on the brink of closing a lucrative deal with McKells Reed law firm. And today, she was meeting its managing partner, Jax, to cinch the deal. She took another sip from her water and made eye contact with Cam Allard, her best friend, on the other side of the bar. Cam glanced at her watch and raised a wry eyebrow, reading her impatience. She chuckled to herself, took a deep breath, and reviewed her notes. But the longer she waited, the more frustrated she became. She went back over her main selling points and flipped through her research on him. Jaxon McKells was a Harvard-educated corporate shark with a ruthless reputation. He was merciless in closing deals, forcing concessions, and gaining leverage, and his clients always came out on top. She smirked. She was a top litigator, and he was a leading dealmaker, so they would likely clash before they finished things. Then she rechecked her watch. Jax was now thirty minutes late. She was perplexed and annoyed. Disheartened, she stood up, began gathering her notes, and was about to head out of the tavern when a text message pinged. A message from him read, “While I enjoy trying out the beer at this quaint tavern you chose, I’d rather you let me know you couldn’t make this meeting rather than let me sit here for a half-hour.” Her heart lurched. What? She watched for him the entire time. How could she miss him? She looked around for Jax. Then he texted her again. “I’ll be here for another 5 minutes to finish my beer. Let me know if you want to reschedule our meeting for another day.” Oh. My. Goodness. Was Jax at the tavern while she waited across the room? Where? As she looked around, she couldn’t see anyone that looked like a lawyer. She saw an old couple eating an early dinner and a family. The only other person was the handsome beachcomber down the bar from her. Was he the alluring beach fella dressed in light linen pants and a blue button-down shirt? He had rolled up his sleeves to reveal tanned, muscular forearms. Giving it a try, she headed down the bar to him. Before she made her move, she typed a quick message to him. “I’m sitting behind you and have been for 30 minutes. Red suit, heading your way.” As she approached the man she hoped to be, Jax, she noticed a confident smirk on his face. She focused on his full, sensual mouth. Also, he had a strong, square jaw and just the beginnings of laugh lines appearing at the corners of his eyes and that mouth. And was that an actual dimple in his chin? Then his expression shifted from amused to surprised. He raised an eyebrow. “Ray? Ray Raven? Wow, you are not what I expected.” She stopped in front of him. She smiled. “Why do you say that?” Then he laughed. “I guess I assumed Ray was a guy.” Despite his rudeness, she felt a jolt of electricity between them and shivered. She ignored the immediate chemistry because she knew this meeting might transform her business. But would it change her life? His comment got her temper up from all the infuriating words. She was excellent at her craft. And he shows up for a business meeting, looking like he just walked off the beach. He then questions her, seemingly about her reputation, hard work, and invention. Didn’t he do any research on a prospective deal? Most people, including him, didn’t know she was also a software whiz. She used her legal mind and tech-savvy to develop computer software that would change the paradigm of the legal industry. Her program saved millions of dollars by quickly assessing and resolving employment cases. Word had gotten out about it, and she already had a few nibbles of interest from several prominent law firms. She wanted to do the deal with the McKells Reed law firm because of its resources and platform for growth. She also believed in the firm’s philosophy, community involvement, and pro bono work. Before she lost control of her temper, she took a couple of breaths to reset. She reminded herself of why she was here and her goals. If she walked out on this deal, it would take her another ten years to do it alone. Or she could merge with McKells Reed and achieve those goals in a year. He laughed. “Is there a reason you’re staring at me?” She almost missed his question. He leaned into her, and his subtle scent of sandalwood and salty air surrounded her. He smelled just how he looked—powerful and in control. Then he stood up and waited for her also to stand. Once she was standing, he put his hand on her back and led her to a table in the front window. He then pulled a chair out and waited for her to sit down. Then he took a seat across the table from her. She wanted to reach out and touch his hair to see if it was as soft as it looked. She came out of her Jax haze. Then she remembered his last question. He was annoying. He started staring at her first. Why was he blaming her when they were both blatantly staring? She cleared her throat and tried to focus. Then he stood up again, but this time to sit in the chair closest to her. And she realized he was tall. She was just over five feet, so most people were taller than her. But he was a giant. He towered over her, leaving an ominous shadow to darken her surroundings. Then he reached out, and his hand engulfed her hand. His gray-blue eyes met her crystal blue eyes. She continued. “Nice to meet you. Glad you found Tulip. It’s a hidden gem.” And he laughed. “Likewise. Yes, I’ve meant to try this place out, so thank you.” He looked around the tavern. And then his gaze went to her. She could feel the tension taut between them. She found it uncomfortable, but he seemed used to it. How could her research have been so wrong about him? She struggled to connect him, the corporate raider, with Jax, the beach wanderer. She wasn’t sure now that her pitch was anywhere near correct. She’d planned to spin her firm as the thing that could transform McKells Reed’s litigation group back into the highly profitable group it once was. Her intel uncovered that the litigation group had been struggling for some time. She’d thought her courtroom success and innovative software would be stellar messaging to convince Jax. But his entire demeanor seemed to downplay accomplishment in favor of comfort and confidence. She was successful in Charleston courtrooms. Just last week, she won a multimillion-dollar verdict. Not only that, but her software projected nearly the exact outcome found by the jury. The case garnered a media firestorm, allowing her to promote her legal prowess and fantastic invention. Yet he did not seem to recognize any of this. Therefore, this entire meeting confused her. He seemed oblivious to her success in the courtroom or that his firm approached her first regarding a merger. She shook the thoughts out of her head. No matter what, she would close this deal. He stared at her, ready to start the discussion. “Rayna, what are you looking for in this deal?” She then looked over at him. “While I am Rayna Raven, everyone calls me Ray.” He considered her and even outright stared. “Honey, no one should call you Ray. With those fiery locks and taunting blue eyes, nothing less than Rayna will do.” Her toes curled at the way he said her name. It just seemed to roll off his tongue in a way that was much too right. But it also annoyed her. If I go by Ray, he should call me Ray, she said to herself. Patience, patience. Don’t let your temper tank your dream; remember to stay the course. He leaned over and continued. “Did you want to discuss the deal? What are your thoughts? What is your firm’s biggest success? And how can that success grow McKells Reed?” He shook out the napkin with a snap before laying it over his lap. When he stretched back in his chair, folding his arms over his very muscular chest, she struggled to keep eye contact and not stare at the dip of his throat peeking out from his unbuttoned collar. He was plain yummy. He waited for her to respond. But when she did not, he continued. “I have read all the materials about the merger. And specifically, I looked at the software offering and expansion options. And I have to say that I’m not convinced. If your software is as good as you say it is, won’t that settle all our cases early, lowering our firm’s profits with lower billable hours? If it can predict the value of cases, that puts our litigators out of business, right?” She felt her cheeks heat. Suddenly, she was out of her Jax haze, and her head was back in the meeting. He was clearly unimpressed with everything she had accomplished, and she felt the deal was now in jeopardy. She could not figure him out and how to swing the conversation back in her favor. Suddenly, she was furious that this cocky, blond beachcomber was wasting her time. She took a deep breath and leaned forward. “The software’s strong reputation will allow McKells Reed to expand its client base, something it needs to do. Once you scale up the software to other practice areas beyond employment, those areas will get the same advantages. And, frankly, it’s time McKells Reed upped its game as a technology leader and shook off some of that stodginess.” Cam approached the table. She was always able to calm Ray’s temper. This time it looked like Cam had eyed her telltale wrinkled forehead and bulldog eyes, signaling that her rage was flaring. Thank goodness Cam arrived at the table. “Hi, folks; sorry to interrupt. I’m Cam. Would you like to order?” He smiled up at Cam and ignored her. “Thanks. Yes. We’ll have the ribs, fries, and slaw. Would you add a salad on the side? And we’ll both take whatever local brew you have on tap.” He polished off the beer he’d brought with him from the bar. She stared at him. He is unreal. He had the presumption to order for her! It took every ounce of self-control to keep her professional demeanor intact. Cam smirked at her. She knew of Ray’s temper. “Thanks. I’ll go with your chicken pasta and iced tea.” Cam snickered and jotted it down before hustling off to grab their drinks. He raised his eyebrows and leaned forward. But before he could begin, she shrugged and quickly straightened. She continued. “My firm’s biggest success is happy clients driven by excellent client management and my secret weapon, which is my software. It would allow your litigation group to boost its profits, keep more clients, and build its client base. The software allows your litigation group to focus its time and efforts on cases they can win and weed out the weak cases from the start. Even with all the experience in the world, we both know that sometimes a junk case gets through and wastes attorney time and client’s money.” She sat back and waited for him to respond. Ok, so maybe she should break it down more for him. “This puts tools in your firm’s hands. Your greenest attorneys can assess risk, balance it, and pursue only the cases they should be pursuing. And it allows you to advise your clients and keep your promises. Changes like this thrill clients, and happy clients keep coming back. And repeat clients boost your profits.” Notably, this jab might have been a little below the belt but judging from the glint that flashed in his eyes, he seemed excited by the challenge. Cam approached the table and set down the drinks. “Beer for you and iced tea for you.” And she looked at her with a sideways grin. However, Ray didn’t take her eyes off him. And he could not help himself. He wanted to prick her temper further. “Are you sure you don’t want something stronger? A little bourbon would help calm that temper. I can see you trying to hide it.” She laughed and then kept her voice even. “No, this is a business meeting. I keep business and pleasure separate. And I never drink in the middle of the day.” Cam quickly turned around and laugh-coughed as she hurried back to the kitchen to get their food. He relaxed in his chair and continued to study her. She felt the weight of his gaze. “Not to frustrate you further, but the presumption that the software could truly impact the legal space seems like a stretch. Do you want me to go all-in on a project that will replace us, as our client’s trusted advisors, with software? That is tough to believe. Attorneys succeed based on relationships with clients. Fighting and winning for your clients is everything. Asking clients to trust the software, not the attorney’s knowledge and expertise moves us in the wrong direction.” Her anger was bubbling over, and he saw it. He leaned to one side and took a sip of his beer, giving her a moment. When she remained silent, he continued. “Our firm is not into the commodity business. What if a cheaper version of this software rolls out? Will the client abandon our firm to purchase the cheaper option? Your proposal degrades our core values. You are aware of McKells Reed’s mission, right? Relationships. Trust. Results.” He waited for half a beat. He took another swig of his beer and set down his glass. He concluded. “I don’t see the win here for McKells Reed.” She pushed out the breath she didn’t know she was holding and took another. She calmly kept eye contact and watched him. “I’m a little confused. I understood that McKells Reed was a yes to this deal. Many other firms are interested in partnering with me, but I thought we shared a vision. Are you saying McKells Reed is no longer interested in closing the deal? If so, I will move on and save our time here. What I am offering with my software supports the McKells Reed mission and, coincidently, my mission of fostering and growing client relationships by providing them with ALL the tools possible to get the best results. I won’t pad the profit margin with unnecessary client billing and won’t lie about the legitimacy of cases.” She paused and took a breath, looking at his strong hand resting on the table. She looked up. “If you cannot see the deal’s worth based on my legal reputation and the software valuations I’ve provided, we can just go our separate ways.” He held up his hand. “Facts and figures are one thing. And I’m not saying they are unimpressive. But we must talk about the role you and your software bring to the structure of McKells Reed. Where do you fit into our day-to-day operations and overall culture?” She was silent as she thought about this question. Did they fit? Why was he talking about how the merger would be structured if he wasn’t interested in the software? Or was it something else? Choosing the first, she said, “Shall we begin?” He looked at her; she felt like an ant under his scrutiny. He stared at her like he was appraising a work of art with so much concentration. She felt the powerful urge to roll her eyes but didn’t; that wouldn’t be professional. And she was always professional. “My time is up for the day. Why don’t you meet me at my house at seven tomorrow night, and we can talk more? Here’s the address.” He stood, scratched out his address, and finished his beer. As he set down his glass, he looked at her. “Dress code is casual.” His eyes flicked to her chest for the briefest second before focusing on her eyes. “Try to relax and come ready for an honest and personal conversation. Your data and metrics are not allowed.” He then turned and headed for the door. Cam watched him leave and set both plates on the table. “And here’s your food. Is he coming back?” She frowned and shook her head, watching his retreating frame as he walked out the front door. She then looked up and laughed, feeling her body relax and return to normal. She was not intimidated by him. And she couldn’t afford to be intimidated by someone with whom she was going into business. She had gotten too far for this to be a stumbling block. Well. Let’s begin, she thought. 
GIVEAWAY! --
Powerhouse: The Morelli Boxed Set
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GIVEAWAY! --
Embracing Love
Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo -- SNEAK PEEK: Connor grabbed the pastry out of the bag, took an enormous sniff, and this time when he looked at her, his eyes were darker, piercing, like she’d offered him her body as the warm tasty treat. I mean could it get any hotter out? Sasha tugged at the front of her T-shirt, sweat dripping down her back, from the sun, from nerves, she didn’t know. “I…uhm…added caramel and nuts and dark brown sugar, so it kind of gets all sticky and gooey.” Her words felt thick coming out. Someone had stuffed her mouth with cotton and she didn’t know how to move her lips or her tongue. “Sticky and gooey,” he said reverently. “My favorite.” Without taking his eyes off her, Connor devoured the caramel pecan pinwheel in three enormous bites. Savoring each taste, she imagined, as it burst on his tongue. When he finished that last swallow, she was unprepared for it, for the show to be over. But it wasn’t. He licked his lips, peered into the empty bag as if he might dare to find all the secrets of the universe. Then, then he took a step closer. She should have stepped back, but she couldn’t, frozen in place by his sparking brown eyes, by the force of him. She was tall, but not Connor-Duggan tall, so she was forced to either stare at the baby attached to his chest or look up. She knew what the safer choice would be. But somehow her body didn’t care right this minute as a warm breeze swirled around them, as if they were the only two people in the park, no neighbors, no babies, no dogs, no responsibilities, no pasts. “Damn.” His voice was hot and hushed, pure disbelief in his words. “That was the best thing I’ve ever tasted. In. My. Life.” He had a dusting of brown sugar at the edge of his lip, where his tongue hadn’t reached. He didn’t speak, didn’t say anything else after his last words whispered around her, but still his body spoke to hers. She reached up without a thought and brushed the sugar off his mouth. “Sugar,” she whispered. Neither one of them moved, and when she started to pull her hand away, he caught it in his large, warm one. Sasha sucked in her breath and watched as he carefully ran his thumb over her fingers, studied them with his intense focus. “There’s something special here, in these fingers, that can create something purely outstanding.” He met her gaze again. “Something that tastes so good it makes a man swear.” Sasha huffed out a laugh, not feeling one bit humorous. “Damn is hardly a swear.” “Trust me.” He rocked her world again with those hooded eyes. “It takes something pretty serious to get a damn out of me.” 
GIVEAWAY! --
Chosen Guardian
The complete series: Back the Stolen Tears Series Kickstarter project here! The purpose of this Kickstarter is to raise funds to launch Special Edition hardcovers of the 3 full-length books in the series as well as to offer an exclusive book box! -- SNEAK PEEK: “I hope we get some good tears,” Gwynn whispers. “Hopefully, they won’t extinguish my magic or shrink us to the size of nymphs or something.” Nymphs are small, hobbling creatures the size of small children. “Or maybe you’ll get a siren’s ability to transfix the unsuspecting passerby with the power of your song.” Gwynn grins at the prospect. “Hypnotic song power? Yes, please. Or maybe we’ll become instantly rich. Or smart like Darrin Graffman—” “Right?” Darrin Graffman is the only guy at school I’ve ever heard of actually getting his hands on some. Supposedly, he drank tears the night before his Pledgeschool Acceptance Exams and got soaring scores, and he’s about as smart as a fencepost. “It depends on your innermost desires,” I say. “I’ve heard tears personalize themselves to what you want most. Once you drink them, they make whatever that is happen. If you don’t know what you want…well, that’s when it becomes a gamble.” “I know exactly what I want,” she says. “Then you’ve got nothing to worry about.” I hope my words sound more reassuring than I feel.
GIVEAWAY! -- #Book Blitz #Son of the Salt Chaser by A.S.Thornton #Fantasy #Romance @Xpresso Book Tours24/10/2022
Son of the Salt Chaser
Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo / Google Play -- SNEAK PEEK: Leaning back onto my hands, I pushed my feet into the cool water. My raw, blistered skin welcomed the relief. “What do you think they’re doing?” Firoz asked, nudging me with his own submerged foot. Soldiers from Madinat Almulihi stood across the large pool. I would have assumed they were cooling themselves, too, but the longer I watched, the more I saw that there was a pattern—almost a rhythm—to the way they dipped their hands into the water and pressed it to their brows, wrists, and necks. “Praying,” a voice said from behind me. A voice so achingly familiar it took all of my strength not to jump from the ground and rush to him. Slowly, I turned to Saalim. In our few days of travel, I had come to understand that he and his men behaved differently from my father and his court. It still surprised me that their king—my king—could appear so unlike a royal. His dark sirwal was rolled at his calves, his feet bare. He wore no weapons, and the black tunic across his chest was dust-covered and almost tattered at the edges; the guthra that loosely wrapped his face, equally worn. Had Saalim himself not told me tales of the wealth and allure of Madinat Almulihi, I would not believe that it was a city worth seeing at all. “Eiqab will strain to hear,” Firoz said. Saalim looked away from his soldiers down to Firoz. “We worship the giver, not the punisher.” “Wahir,” I said. How strange it was to see someone praying to the lesser god. How wrong. Saalim’s gaze met mine. A rush of cold and hot, longing and desperation, and . . . Sons, how didn’t he feel it? Couldn’t he see me as I saw him? I felt as I had the first time he looked at me after he became human again, when he had killed my father and his eyes locked on mine. I stared back, willing him to feel, to remember as I did . . . the set of his jaw hard beneath my fingers, his lips against my own, his breath warm as I pulled it into my lungs. His hands so careful against my skin, his heart beating against my breast, the tremor of his voice as he said my name. “Emel, isn’t it?” he asked. The memories scattered. I bent my head to the ground, not wanting him to see my grimace. He felt nothing, remembered nothing. Sons, he did not know me at all. Masira was a devious goddess, giving so much but taking as much in return. Damn her magic that she unfurled like a woven rug! Something beautiful to cover all of the ugly scars and secrets, to distract from them. But that was all the magic did, wasn’t it? What it tried to remove, it did so sloppily. Everything still lay underneath the threads. “Yes, she is Emel,” Firoz said loudly. I looked back to Saalim, brushing away my thoughts like sand on my palms. Saalim continued. “Today, you and . . .” “Firoz,” he said. Saalim paused at the name, his brow pulling together slightly before he continued. “Firoz. I am still learning. You both will help with the cook-fires.” Then he turned from us and continued around the water’s edge. “Well, I at least know food is cooked on a fire. What do you know about cooking?” Firoz chuckled. His mother always cooked for his family, and I had had no business working in the palace kitchens as an ahira. I forced a laugh as I watched Saalim walk away. “What bothers you?” Firoz asked. I shook my head. “He’s just a king, Emel. Same heart that can be pierced by blade.” He stabbed the air with an invisible blade. 
GIVEAWAY! --
Chaos and Cranberries
-- SNEAK PEEK: Vem stood uncomfortably close and read aloud: Ivy Merrilee Globe was a prolific author, completing seventy-nine books in her twenty-six years of life. Her most recent, Snowily Severed, was a short story featured in the massively popular Christmas horror anthology, Strung by the Fire. She recently signed a contract with Brain Gravy Pictures to turn her short story into a movie. Driving home from physical therapy, she stopped for children crossing three blocks from her home, when her neighbor’s sleigh ornament slid off the roof of their home and through her car windshield, impaling her. Ivy herself couldn’t have written such a dramatic end. Ivy leaves behind three brothers and a cat named Ice. “She didn’t die on the twenty-second like the other two. Find the date of the Frosty attack, Lanie,” Vem urged. I typed in the information and when the page came up, our mood was somber. “Ivy was attacked on the twenty-second by the Frosty wannabe. They intended to kill her that day, and when it didn’t work, they came back to finish the job.” “Poor Ivy,” Vem lamented. My phone rang and I jumped up to answer. Even though we’d been together for several years, I was always expecting his call. “Babe?” “Mrs. Hill? This is the Tucson police department.” 
GIVEAWAY! --  Thank you to Rachel from Rachel's Random Resources for inviting me to participate in the blog tour for Victoria & Violet, a delightful historical romance by Rachel Brimble.  Victoria & Violet It should be a dream come true to serve the Queen of England… When Violet Parker is told she will be Queen Victoria’s personal housemaid, she cannot believe her good fortune. She finally has the chance to escape her overbearing mother, a servant to the Duchess of Kent. Violet hopes to explore who she is and what the world has to offer without her mother’s schemes overshadowing her every thought and action. Then she meets James Greene, assistant to the queen’s chief political adviser, Lord Melbourne. From entirely different backgrounds and social class, Violet and James should have neither need nor desire to speak to one another, yet through their service, their paths cross and their lives merge—as do their feelings. Only Victoria’s court is not always the place for romance, but rather secrets, scandals, and conspiracies… Purchase Links UK / US  My thoughts: Victoria & Violet is a sweet and delightful historical romance set in the early stages of Queen Victoria's reign. Even though I mostly read contemporary romance, this was such a wonderfully immersive and entertaining read that I wholeheartedly recommend it to anyone who would like to learn more about the period and family relationships at the time. Violet Parker, a servant to the Duchess of Kent, Queen Victoria's estranged mother, is overjoyed to find out about her new position of the royal housemaid. The only thing that is marring her happiness is the fact that Violet's overbearing and I daresay abusive mother expects her to spy on Her Majesty and use her presence to make Victoria consider seeing the Duchess more often. If you are familiar with Queen Victoria's controversial upringing (the Kensington system), you won't be surprised that Violet, a victim of her own mother's belittling remarks and constant manipulation, would like nothing to do with her mother's schemes. Violet cares deeply about Victoria's happiness and her well-deserved freedom to make her own choices in life. This is also the time when the Parliament and royal advisors insist on Victoria marrying and producing an heir to secure the future of the country. Violet's own romance with a charming courtier James Greene is intertwines with the story of Queen Victoria's engagement and subsequent marriage to Prince Albert of Saxe-Coburg. Rachel Brimble has a very easy, engaging writing style. In no time at all I was transported to Queen Victoria's court. The author clearly captured the atmosphere and uniqueness of the period and included just the right amount of detail to make us understand and care deeply about the protagonists' and their dilemmas. There's a special kind of dignity and strength in Violet who goes through considerable growth from a miserable, trapped girl to someone who truly knows her mind and is able to stand up to her mother and refute her emotional blackmail. James is also learning to trust his own feelings and experience to allow himself believe he can have a happy marriage, free of anger and domestic abuse his father heaped on his children. This topic of familial ties, duty and obedience versus freedom of choice and real independence (esp. in thinking and making decisions) is something which goes through the whole book. I really enjoyed the story and would love to read more from the author.  Author Bio – Rachel lives in a small town near Bath, England. She is the author of 29 published novels including the Ladies of Carson Street trilogy, the Shop Girl series (Aria Fiction) and the Templeton Cove Stories (Harlequin). Her latest novel, Victoria & Violet is the first book in her new Royal Maids series with the Wild Rose Press. Rachel is a member of the Romantic Novelists Association as well as the Historical Novel Society and has thousands of social media followers all over the world. Social Media Links – Website: https://bit.ly/3wH7HQs Twitter: https://bit.ly/3AQvK0A Facebook: https://bit.ly/3i49GZ3 Instagram: https://bit.ly/3lTQZbF 
Blood and Thunder
-- SNEAK PEEK: A kaleidoscope of colors danced across the sky as they walked along the strip. It was near midnight by the time they arrived, but it could have been noon for all Tag knew. Light was everywhere, immersing everyone and everything in a melting hue of red, orange, and blue. Pulsating lights to drumbeats, dancing water to music, and people bumping into each other like in a pinball machine was enough for sensory overload. How do people live here? Tag shook himself out of the stupor that was enough to drive anyone mad. Maybe that’s why people lost all their money—they were all sent subliminal messages through the strobing lights and music, promising to shut that shit off if they hand over all their money. “So, where exactly are we headed?” Tag asked. “Denali and Nova are supposed to meet us outside the casino up ahead.” Nodin pointed to a large set of buildings that looked like a circus tent in the front. “Oh, hell no. There’s a clown with a lollipop on their sign. And you want to put my life in the hands of someone who works there?” Tag blinked, spun around, and walked away. Dominic and Nodin grabbed him by the arms and carried him to the front of the clown sign. “So, I’m not the only one thinking this whole thing is kinda sketch?” Denali said, folding his arms as he leaned against the bottom of one of the clown shoes. “Denali!” Tag shouted, his eyes wide as saucers, happy to see his cousin was there. Surely, he’d rescue him from this insane plan. “Don’t let them take me in there, man!” Nova chuckled and shook his head. “I have to go with Tag and Denali on this one. What the hell are you thinking, Nodin?” He glanced up at the giant, horrifying clown towering over them like a nightmare. Dominic looked over his shoulder with a laugh as he stopped at the bottom of the clown sign. “Oh, ye of little faith.” “Nodin, I swear…” Tag started as he watched Dominic walk between the giant clown feet and disappear. “Wait…what?” “After you, brother.” Nodin fanned his arm toward the spot where Dominic had vanished into thin air. Tag shook his head. “Just when I thought this day couldn’t get any worse.” “Well, I thought that was pretty cool. I’m down,” Nova said as he leapt through the void and vanished like Dominic. “And this is why Nova would be the first one killed in a horror movie.” Denali sighed, shook his head, and dove into the apparent portal after his brother. “You used to be a lot more adventurous,” Nodin said, clutching Tag’s shoulder, easing him forward. “Well, yeah, I was a young, dumb teenager who thought he was invincible. Now I have a death sentence hanging over my head. It changes a person.” Tag shirked out of Nodin’s grip. Nodin pursed his lips and stared at Tag. “Okay. Okay. Fine! I’m going. But I don’t have to like it.” Tag shook out his shoulders and sucked in a deep breath as he jumped on the concrete foundation holding up the stupid-ass clown. “You better not be filming this.” Nodin threw his head back with a laugh. “Just get your ass in there.” Energy radiated along his skin, surging with a heat he could only describe as sensual. Air ripped from his lungs in a gasp, which rang out as more of a moan of pleasure than pain. Tag snapped his eyes open and blinked himself back to reality, or a new version of it, as he glanced around at the site before him. Two giant figures loomed toward the night sky, arguing in pantomime with each other. Dressed in black-and-white striped outfits, their bodies coiled elegantly, rising above each other yet tethered to the ground, the bottom half of the male a circus tent, and the bottom of the female a carousel. “What the hell is this place?” Tag looked around. The male figure tipped his hat as he twisted around, bending down with a loud creak that vibrated through the air around him as he came face-to-face with Tag, a ludicrous smile blazing over his wide lips. “Welcome to Bizarre Bazaar.”
GIVEAWAY! --
Tracker
Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / Kobo -- On sale for 99c for a limited time only! -- SNEAK PEEK: The rich smell of wood smoke drifted to her nose as Lynnette stepped out of her car in the parking area of the campground. It had taken her a minute to find the right spot on the opposite side of Swann Lake from the highway. In the thick forest surrounding the lake, twilight fell early, and she’d missed the turn the first time, so she had to backtrack. As she rounded the front of her car, a weird sensation rippled through her. Never in her life had she lost her way even for a minute, so how had she missed that turn? “Hey, you want to hold on to these for me?” She handed her car keys to her friend. Delaney shot her a look. “After our conversation this afternoon, now you’re the one looking to get lucky tonight?” But she pocketed Lynnette’s keys anyway. “Not really. I had a weird premonition is all.” She shrugged. “It’s probably nothing.” Raucous laughter greeted them as they neared the bonfire burning brightly on the lakeshore, its flames reflected in the dark, still water. People sat on logs several feet away from the heat, drinking and talking. A group of guys stood near the picnic table, one of them pumping air into a pony keg on ice while another one filled Solo cups and handed them around. Bags of chips and other assorted snacks were stacked on the table, and Lynnette wandered over to it to add their contribution of a couple of party-size jars of peanuts she’d grabbed from work. As they neared the table, a low whistle greeted them. “Hell-o ladies,” said a hot blond who was built like a linebacker. “Want a beer?”
GIVEAWAY! -- |
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