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The Mechanics of Lust
-- EXCERPT: “Speech, speech!” A slow clap reverberated off the faded walls of the Oakwood pub’s back bar, which locals had affectionately named The Fleece. I put my back to the wooden bar and watched a furiously blushing Gil throw Holden a withering, you-are-in-so-much-trouble glare before stepping onto the small stage. He surveyed the crowd from under the Happy Fortieth Birthday banner, which had taken four of us an embarrassing amount of time and a few beers to finally get in place. I was amazed we’d managed to keep the surprise party a secret, but somehow we’d done it, and Gil had been stunned, tearful, and touchingly overwhelmed when he’d walked into the packed bar to a loud chorus of happy birthday that rattled the rafters. As I listened to his emotional thank you to everyone who’d turned up to celebrate, including some of his friends who’d flown in from Wellington, it was hard not to be charmed by the man. Not quite a year in the district and Gil’s name was almost as synonymous with Miller Station as Holden’s. This was partly due to their gay-couple status, but also because of the run of free seminars Gil had begun offering locally on grief, stress management, and rural mental health. The result was a bar chocka with birthday well-wishers. And I was one of them. Cue the shocked gasps of disbelief. Keeping my eyes on Gil, I shuffled sideways to let a man in at the bar behind me. “We must stop meeting like this.” The gravelly voice sent a shiver down my spine, and I turned to find a familiar pair of blue eyes dancing over my face. Luke Nichols. Dammit. Luke flashed that wicked smile that always made my dick sit up and pay attention and just, damn my bad luck. The man smelled of Tom Ford, summer, and trouble, and I cursed the familiar tingling sensation his proximity always managed to induce in my body. A fact that only strengthened my resolve to make sure he caught my eye roll. He did. But the amused smirk he returned my way didn’t help matters. “Well, look who the cat dragged in.” I tried not to lean in for another waft of that expensive cologne. “Guess there’s no show without Punch, right?” Luke gave an amused snort. “I guess not.” His gaze raked over me, head to foot, before he turned his attention to the small stage where Gil was winding up his speech. “Ah, the birthday boy.” I followed Luke’s gaze, pretending to listen while shooting covert glances back his way because . . . well, because I was an idiot. And because he looked so fucking edible. Dressed in dark-wash jeans paired with a crisp white shirt—open at the neck and with the cuffs rolled up to reveal the green silicone wristband he always wore—Luke looked annoyingly cool as a cucumber in the late January heat that had the rest of us layering on the deodorant. Smelling fresh from the shower, Luke brushed a stray lock of dirty blond hair back into place in a way that made me want to shove a hat over my own shaggy, auburn waves. A woven black leather cord hung around his neck and disappeared under his shirt, and a pair of trendy black loafers poked out from the bottom of his jeans. It pained me to admit it, but the man was effortlessly chic. Enough already. I refocused on Gil who was gesturing to Holden to join him on the small stage. “Get up here, baby.” Gil drew Holden in for a long, slow kiss that had the birthday crowd whooping and wolf-whistling. I waited for the once familiar knot of jealousy in my chest, but it never came. Wistful? Sure. Envious of what they had? Absolutely. But jealous still? I thought about it again. No. Maybe I was fooling myself, but I was going to take that for a win. Luke leaned in close. “Does this feel as weird for you as it does for me?” I glanced over my shoulder. “I’ve no idea what you mean,” I lied. His lips twitched in an almost smile that I chose to ignore. “Oh really?” he asked sardonically. “Because here we are, you and me, at a party celebrating my ex-husband’s birthday, thrown by his new love who just happens to be your best friend slash ex. One could be forgiven for saying it’s a bit of a mindfuck, right?” When I didn’t answer, he elbowed me gently. “Oh, come on. A little conversation won’t kill you.” I huffed. “Says you.” I was being a dick and we both knew it, but that was par for the course as far as things between us went. To be fair, Luke had attempted to build a bridge many times since our inauspicious first meeting. He’d arrived uninvited at the station the year before in an attempt to force Gil to talk and I’d been . . . less than welcoming. I might not have liked Gil much at that time, and I still didn’t know the whole story of what had happened between them, but to walk out on your husband six months after your daughter was killed in a car accident? The rest of Miller Station might have found a way to gloss over that fact and forgive him, even Gil. But as far as I was concerned, how much more did you really need to know about a guy? Not to mention, getting all buddy-buddy with the man would’ve meant having . . . conversations and likely being paired up to work when he helped out on the station. The problem was that any proximity to Luke brought with it a minefield of potential disaster best avoided. Luke was sexy as shit and his obvious interest in me might fizz in those wicked blue eyes. But he was trouble with a capital T, and I wanted no part of him for too many reasons to list. Although if I did happen to list them, right at the top would be the fact that my body lit up like a Christmas tree every time the man came within spitting distance. Not since those first times with Holden had I felt anything like that. Maybe not even then, and that fact just plain pissed me off. Too bad I was done with complicated men. D O N E.
GIVEAWAY! -- #Book Blitz #The Travelling City by Adrienne Miller #Adventure #Fantasy @Xpresso Book Tours20/10/2023
The Travelling City
-- EXCERPT: “Are you sure that’s what you want?”, she asked. She hadn’t expected that she would struggle to read Phillippe’s mood. Frustration gnawed at the edges of her desire, making her wonder if it wasn’t easier to retreat now that they could still laugh it off. “Yes”, he replied, half-closing his eyes. He lowered his head to hers, impossibly slowly, impossibly softly, lashes fluttering against his cheek. “Sometimes that’s all I want.” He hesitated as if he was waiting for a single word to tear him down. Instead, she closed her eyes and softly kissed the side of his mouth. Phillippe didn’t tense and he didn’t move. He held her back in perfect equilibrium, and Reihan waited, one moment, another, time passing them by like a stranger. Then Phillippe breathed in and moved his lips against hers in a painfully gentle descent. She felt longing, sharp and tangy, on her fingertips as they held onto Phillippe’s arms and on her lips that Phillippe caressed with painful slowness.
GIVEAWAY! --
Challenging the Chef
-- EXCERPT: He could do this. Play nice and dig deep to dredge up the charm that used to come to him so easily. He’d unearthed it anytime a food critic or reporter came to town interested in reviewing the restaurant. If he thought of the woman as someone he needed to impress, like a critic, then maybe it would be easier to get through the next few days. What were four measly days in the grand scheme of things, anyway? Just nearly a hundred hours of misery. Pure misery. Nothing to worry about, he thought derisively. Scoffing, he removed the sauce from the heat and set it aside. Owen glanced at the clock. Time was growing short before Miss Young arrived. If he hurried, he could whip up the sour cream lemon blueberry Bundt cakes he planned to offer for dessert that evening. He’d already made strawberry pudding that would be served with shortbread squares and fresh whipped cream topped with candied lime peel. Determined to have the cakes baking before Miss Young messed up his afternoon, he rushed to mix the ingredients and was just sliding the last cake pan into the oven when he heard Mayor Mitchell Kane speaking to someone as they entered through the back door. Owen really needed to get a keypad lock back there one of these days. Grumbles drifted under his breath as he set the timer for the cakes, quickly washed his hands, and turned with a towel in his wet hands to greet the interloper who was about to completely upset his schedule for the next four days. Despite what Nate had mentioned about her not being too hard on the eyes, Owen wasn’t prepared for the woman who stepped into the kitchen with Mitch. His hands stilled, clenching the towel as he took in her appearance. Dark brown hair flowed over her shoulders in thick, chunky waves. Apple cheeks tinged with pink, lips that appeared entirely too kissable, and the slightest smattering of freckles on her nose gave her a girl-next-door vibe. Pretty brown eyes sparkled like fizzy root beer but looked intelligent and interested when their gazes connected. The mayor helped her remove her coat, and Owen’s mouth went dry at the sight of her curvaceous figure. He sucked in a breath and inhaled a delightful floral fragrance that tantalized his nose. What was he supposed to do with this beautiful being when he’d been expecting a middle-aged foodie with money as expandable as her waistline? This was even worse than he’d envisioned. He had no time for distractions like Tawni Young, who certainly lived up to her name. She looked young. Fresh-faced. Yet the name Tawni made him think of a jungle cat and something that held a great deal of danger. If the attraction he felt to her was any indication, she was going to be nothing but trouble to him.
GIVEAWAY! --
The Queen’s Crown
Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo / Google Play -- EXCERPT: “I really don’t feel like dancing right now.” Sabine needed to be alone to think over everything the man from Avoni had just said. “Neither do I.” He clasped his hands behind his back and headed toward the balcony. He tilted his head and raised his eyebrows, the invitation clear. Being away from the dancing couples sounded like a good idea, so she followed him. No one else was on the balcony. She rested her arms on the railing and looked out over the dark valley below, trying to calm her rattled nerves. “Interesting outfit,” Axel said as he mirrored her position beside her. His mask was a deep purple, matching his pants and shirt. “Weren’t you supposed to be an eagle?” she asked. “I changed my mind.” “What are you?” He shrugged. “Nothing.” She could almost hear the unspoken words: because that’s what I am. She shivered. Nothing about tonight was going the way she thought it would. “Since I planned this event,” he continued, “I didn’t have time to have an extravagant mask made.” “I thought Rainer planned this?” “He told me to arrange a masquerade, so I did.” He turned, looking at her. “Does it matter who planned it?” She shook her head. Gazing back out at the night, she couldn’t help but wonder why Axel was out here with her instead of inside dancing. “Sometimes I want to fall into the silence of the night,” he whispered. Surprised by the admission, Sabine twisted to face him. “Why is that?” “The silence demands nothing but silence in return.” Though it might be quiet at night, that was when most dark deeds were done. That was when Sabine planned on breaking into the Avoni’s rooms and snooping around. Night provided cover for things that shouldn’t happen. The daylight exposed them. The corners of his lips rose. “Of course, there are plenty of other things I enjoy doing in the night.” And there was the Axel she’d come to know. “I’m sure your nights are rarely spent silently.” He laughed. “I do love your candor.” “Prince Axel,” a woman said from behind them. “Duty calls,” he whispered. With a wink, he turned and strode away, joining the woman and heading back into the throne room.
GIVEAWAY! -- #Book Blitz #A Hallowed Date (A Coffee Break Mystery 3) by J.C.Valentine @Xpresso Book Tours18/10/2023
A Hallowed Date
-- EXCERPT: The sound of footsteps had me glancing up to see Ryan shuffling up the walkway toward me, looking only slightly bleary-eyed. His dark hair was endearingly mussed from sleep. “Good morning, sunshine,” I said brightly, puzzled as to why he was gracing me with his presence. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your company this fine morning?” It wasn’t typical for us to converse most days, aside from a passing nod or hello. This was…unexpected. “I think I had too much of your magic brew last night,” he said, coming to sit in the vacant seat beside me, only a small wedge of an attached table standing between us. Ah, he was suffering a hangover. “Coffee?” I offered, feeling suddenly shy and somewhat sorry for overserving him. But at least we were talking. It was definitely a step in the right direction. Ryan gave me a lopsided grin. “You read my mind. I saw you sitting out here and figured I’d see if you’d pity me enough to offer a cup.” “I’m surprised you even left the house. Why didn’t you make your own pot?” He grimaced. “Tried. Would you believe I tripped over my own feet and broke it?” I covered a snicker with my hand. “Well, looks like your day isn’t starting off on the best foot, no pun intended. I’ll go fix you a cup. Black or with sugar?” “Two sugars and a splash of milk. You’re an angel,” he added, blinking up at me adoringly. I laughed outright this time and shook my head, then headed inside to retrieve his drink. Ryan’s morning might have been a monster, but mine was turning out pretty great so far. 
GIVEAWAY! -- #Book Blitz #Petulant Shadows by Martha Sweeney #Supernatural #Thriller @Xpresso Book Tours18/10/2023
Petulant Shadows
-- EXCERPT: “It’s so pretty!” a child squeals, rushing past Paisley, almost colliding with her. She watches the children, wondering what they’re on about. “Ooh,” several people chime in unison, stopping and glancing at the sky. Paisley’s gaze follows theirs, and the second she sees the deep red splashed in the clouds, her mouth gapes and a sinking feeling pulls at her gut. “What’s wrong?” Ida asks, coming up alongside her friend. “Huh?” she hums, not bothering to look at the woman. “What’s wrong, Paisley?” she repeats. “Is everything okay? It’s as if you’ve seen a ghost.” Her hand extends up to the sky, shaking as it rises. “Blood moon.” A few women shout, calling some names, but Paisley barely notices. “I ain’t ever seen the sky like that,” Ida says. “It’s…eerily beautiful.” “It’s an omen,” Eloise states, coming up alongside them. Paisley’s head bobs as she gawks at the sky. The rest of the women who are outside join them, standing all in a row, staring at the clouds and moon. Several whisper comments, but they drift with the wind, not affording Paisley the chance to catch what’s been said. It wouldn’t matter if they were audible. Paisley’s too far in her thoughts to have heard them away. A low voice calls out in the distance, but none seem to hear it but Paisley. Her eyes shift across the way, wondering if they might be close by. The shadows dance when the trees sway with a breeze, sending a shiver down Paisley’s back. The voice continues, sounding as if there are others with it but it does not gain in volume. The conversations that were inside the church and traveling beyond the door soften as many more townsfolk make their way outside. Bernard steps behind his wife, Grayson with Paisley, Hollister with Sybil, Otto with Ida, and every other man with a wife does the same. “Lock your doors,” Paisley warns in the now silent night, curling her arms around herself. “What?” Otto asks. “Lock your doors tonight,” she states. “Why?” Ida asks. “It’s a blood moon,” Eloise states. “A full-blood moon.” “What does that mean?” Sybil inquires. “It means the bears will be protecting Biernhard tonight,” Evelyn says, making her way to her friends. Several snicker in reply. “Laugh all you want,” Evelyn says with a huff. “Paisley and Eloise are right. It’s a blood sky. It means blood will be had tonight. The darkness desires a soul.”
GIVEAWAY! --
For the Love of Villains: Anthology
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Fumbled Beginning
-- EXCERPT: I unrolled my window, and the sight of him made me wish I had walked or called my dad instead. His playful green eyes smiled down at me. “Thank you for coming. I hope I didn’t tear you away from anything too important, like a date or something like that.” His brow raised, and I suddenly felt the urge to pound my head against the steering wheel. Maybe it would reset my brain and get it to start working right again. I felt like Baby in Dirty Dancing when she blurted out, “I carried a watermelon.” “You didn’t tear me away from anything. I was up watching ESPN.” His face broke out into a full-blown grin. “Would it bother you if I was on a date?” “Of course not. It’s none of my business what or who you do.” He snorted. “Yeah, I can tell.” “Whatever.” I sighed because it was obvious that I was lying. “How much do you know about cars?” I asked, leaning back slightly. His large frame was taking up so much room it was hard for me to think clearly. “What seems to be the problem?” he asked, sticking his head farther into my personal space. I could practically feel the heat coming off his body, and with the smell of his cologne, that was a dangerous combination for me. When I looked up to answer him, I swallowed, and my attention immediately went to his tattooed arms, gripping the end of my door. Every tiny movement would cause the hem of his shirt to ride up his toned stomach. I averted my eyes up to his sharp jawline and noticed his newly trimmed beard, it was short, and I liked it—a lot. It made his lips more noticeable, and I wanted to kiss him so badly that I envisioned what it would feel like. No doubt I would savor every second because a man as confident as him had to be skilled in that area. He cleared his throat, pulling me from my thoughts. “Rylee?” “Yeah?” I blinked up at him, trying to remember what we were talking about before I slipped into fantasy land. “Your car?” “What about it?” I was confused and distracted and making a complete fool of myself. His eyes were sparkling. “You mentioned something about overheating.” “Yes, right, that would be me.” My eyes flashed to his in mortification. “I mean my car! My car is overheating. Not me!”
GIVEAWAY! --
A Cowboy Country Christmas
-- EXCERPT: Lainey sucked in a breath as she reached to pet the dog’s side. “What do you mean? Why wouldn’t you keep her? She’s obviously already attached to you.” “She just likes me because I feed her. But look at her. She’s too friendly not to be someone’s pet.” After getting over her initial skittishness of the night before, the dog had been cuddly and affectionate, either following after them if they walked around the bunkhouse or rolling over for belly rubs if she was sitting next to them. “Some family is probably missing her.” “Maybe.” “I need to at least call the Humane Society and the sheriff’s office to see if someone’s looking for her.” “Okay, but if no one claims her, then she’s for sure your dog. And you should totally name her something Christmas-themed, since this is the time of year when you found her. How about Holly? Or Mistletoe? Or how about Carol?” He cocked an eyebrow. “What a great idea. Then I can always be reminded of this holiday I’m such a huge fan of. And also, if I were keeping her, there’s no way in hell I’d name my dog Carol. Or Mistletoe. Unless you want me to just turn in my man card right now.” Her eyes went dreamy as she stroked a finger along his sizable bicep. “As if. And no, I’m quite partial to your man parts. I mean your manly parts. Wait, I mean your manliness.” She dropped her head into her hands. “Pretend I did not say that.” “Too late. You already said you loved my man parts.” “I said partial to…and anyway, we were talking about the dog. And thinking of ideas of what to name her.” “You were thinking of what to name her. But I’d rather go back to talking about what you love about my—” She held up her hand to cut him off. “What about Jingle or Snickerdoodle for a name?” “For my man parts? I don’t think they’d take too kindly to being called Snickerdoodle, but Jingle Balls does have a certain holiday ring to it.” She let out one of her hearty laughs, the kind that came from her belly and snuck out as a surprise. The kind that made his manly heart melt like butter on a hot biscuit. “We are not going to start talking about your Christmas balls again,” she said, still laughing. “How about Eggnog or Snowy? For the dog.” He grimaced. “How about not?” He was acting grumpy, but he was really having fun with her. Too much fun. She was so easy to be with, and not just to be with, but to be himself with. He was only this comfortable with a few select people. Although his comfortableness with her was also interspersed with moments of fluttering heartbeats and a racing pulse whenever their hands touched, or her shoulder brushed his, or if he caught a whiff of her delicious scent. Her nearness could send jittery nerves spiraling through his stomach that made him feel like a love-crazed teenager, which probably shaved several points off that man card they were just discussing. She tapped her fingers to her lips. “Okay, I’ll stop with the too cutesy. But I really still like the idea of a Christmas name. Just give me a second. I know I can think of a good one. Hmm. I suppose Cindy Lou Who is out?” He shrugged. “Not if I can shorten it and just call her Lou.”
GIVEAWAY! --
Sea Stars Christmas
-- EXCERPT: Mackenzie yanked open the car door, barely noticing the cold metal on her hands. This place. Why did she still feel like an outsider? It didn’t help to have local business owners griping about her. Well, to be fair, it was only a few, but they were loud. Of course things felt unfamiliar when you start over, especially moving to Canada as she had, but she thought it would get better. Getting a job, a house and her dear boyfriend Declan hadn’t given her a place in the wider community. People still made comments and she couldn’t feel her roots. Sometimes it even felt like her life wasn’t real. Right this minute, though, she felt entirely real and entirely stressed. Difficult meetings did that to her. She sat in her cold car, gripping the wheel as she stared into space. Was this new project even possible? What a stupid idea. Okay, it was her idea. That didn’t mean it wasn’t stupid. She’d dreamed it up, a holiday festival to highlight the little village she loved. She imagined visitors marveling at the architecture, the charming shops, and the excellent restaurants, all wrapped in Christmas cheer. Magda Allen, chair of the Village Marketing Group, had run with the vision. Despite the naysayers, the group voted it in. Now it was up to Mackenzie to make it happen. In three weeks. Yes, a stupid idea. A shiny Volvo swept up and Magda grandly gestured for her to put her car window down. “Good job getting folks on board!” her sort-of boss said cheerily. Mackenzie wrinkled her forehead. “Who? You heard the complaints. Those people don’t like outsiders. Estelle and Josiah especially.” “Well, maybe,” Magda admitted, “but most people really liked it. The hotel people, the chocolate guy. The restaurant folks.” “I guess.” Mackenzie tended to remember the negative bits. “Some people don’t like change. Don’t worry about it,” Magda advised. “When they complain about people from away it’s hard not to take it personally,” she said darkly. “Estelle doesn’t like anybody,” Magda confirmed, “so it’s not about you. Besides, they voted, and you got a green light.” “We did, not me. I’m an online marketer,“ she reminded her. “I don’t do in-person, talk-to-people-I-don’t-know stuff.” “You’ll do fine,” Magda enthused. “It’s going to be fun and bring in business. The Sea Stars Festival will be the best festival ever in Stella Mare.” “Because it’s the first,” Mackenzie objected. “And that’s good enough,” Magda said. “Keep connected. Let me know what I can do.” Arm waving merrily out the window, she drove off. Mackenzie could hardly fathom such confidence. If she did, then she could imagine Water Street full of lights and greenery, a parade with floats, bands, even Santa, and happy families watching. Maybe it wasn’t such a reach. It was even possible organizing this festival could help her get connected to this community. Hope bloomed in her chest, but then she recalled the grim faces of the naysayer and her heart sank again. She wasn’t Magda, endlessly optimistic. Remembering Josiah’s glare didn’t help, so she tried to shake it off while heading home. She wished she could unload her worries on Declan, but he was always busy. Teaching, writing, and, now, producing his play at the high school consumed his time. Besides, he was at work. She’d have to wait her turn for his attention.
GIVEAWAY! -- |
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