#tuesdayTeaser 8.4.2020 – WIP

In order to be a real tease(r) I figured I give you a taste of the Christmas book I’m releasing independently this year. It’s in final edits and I don’t have a cover yet, but I finally decided on a title after putting up a poll on my facebook page : MISTLETOE, MOBSTERS, & MOZZARELLA. Just from that you can surmise it’s a RomCom!

Here’s the burb, then the little tease from between the pages:

Finding a body in the freezer of the family deli isn’t the way Madonna San Valentino planned to start her day.

Adding insult to injury, the investigating detective is the one guy she’s never been able to forget. After seven minutes of heaven in the back seat of his car when they were teenagers, Tony Roma skipped town without so much as a thanks for the memory.

Just when Madonna thinks the present situation can’t get any worse, Tony is ordered to go undercover at the deli to ferret out a killer. Forced to work together, she vows to keep their relationship cool and professional. But with the sexy, longing looks he tosses her at every turn, Madonna’s resolve is weakening.

With Christmas drawing closer and Tony’s investigation taking an unexpected turn, Madonna is at her wit’s end. Can she really be falling for him again? And will he wind up leaving her broken hearted and alone like the last time?

Advice for surviving in a big Italian family: Family comes first, last, and always. No excuses.

I sent up a prayer to St. John the Silent in the hope it would keep my father from divulging what Tony had informed us about Chico. I should have saved myself the trouble because with no thought to the promise he’d given the good detective, my father vomited everything up to my uncles.

Christ on the cross, what a mess,” Joey said, rubbing his fingers over his eyebrows.

“I heard’a this piece’a work, Archetti,” Sonny said after sipping his espresso. “Low-level drug scum. Got shanked. Good riddance.”

I was cut short from adding something when my mother blasted into the room.

And that’s not an exaggeration.

Grace Liliana Chicollini San Valentino is a force of nature. There’s really no other way to describe her.

At five foot eight, she towers above all her siblings, leading some in the family to ponder if nonna had done the nasty with the milkman when nonno was off fighting the Fascists. She’d been born and blessed with the northern Italian DNA of fair hair, blue eyes, and light skin, unlike my father’s Sicilian genes, which were dark, dark, and darker. I’d always considered it a crime against nature my brothers all took after my mother while I got the lion’s share of Daddy’s genetic makeup.

At sixty, my mother appeared ten years younger in any light. Nary a line warped her skin, due to the religious rubbing of extra virgin olive oil she applied to her face and neck nightly. When I’d been a little girl and plagued with night terrors, the familiar smell of my mother’s skin while she hugged me, soothed away the fears. It’s probably the reason to this day pizza or pasta dripping in oil still calms my soul.

What it does to my ass is another story entirely.

My mother has miraculously kept the figure she’d been gifted with when she sailed through her teen years, even after birthing six kids. Breasts like a screen siren’s, a tiny waist, and hips built for pregnancy, my mother’s silhouette is a classic hourglass and she still dresses in ways that accentuate her assets. The movie star bombshells of Hollywood’s heyday have nothing on my mama for natural sexiness.

As a teen, being her daughter hadn’t been easy. My brother’s friends all fell in pubescent lust with mama. Standing next to her I paled in the female comparison department and looked more like another of her sons than her darling daughter.

But she had a heart of gold and when she loved you it was for life. That military expression I’ve got your six could have been devised for mama because no matter what stupid things my brothers had done, any trouble they’d gotten into, and even through my turbulent and emotional teen years, she’d always had our backs.

“Louie. Louie,” she shouted as she blew like a sirocco into the room. “I just heard from Frankie about a dead guy at the store. Mi amore! Your heart. Are you okay? You ain’t hurt are ya?”

She flung her fur coat off and it landed on the floor in a heap behind her. Wrapping her arms around my father, who’d stood the moment her worried voice boomed through the back door, she cried, “Are you okay?” She ran her hands over his head, down his shoulders, to his chest, her gaze raking along with her movements, making sure all his parts were intact and he wasn’t spouting arterial blood.

My father, ever calm and controlled, took her hands with his and brought them both to his lips. After he kissed each one he continued to hold them as he told her, “I’m fine, Gracie. I’m okay. It was Donna who found Chico, not me. And he was already dead.”

My mother whipped her head in my direction. With her forehead a mass of furrows and her eyes pinched at the corners, she pulled a hand from my father’s grip and grabbed my arm. “You okay, bambina?”

I squeezed her hand and nodded. Then, without any warning, an unusual need to fall into her arms and cry overcame me. When a sob escaped me full-force, she pulled out of my father’s hold, clicking her tongue on the roof of her mouth, grabbed me, and hauled me against her chest, my nose crushing into her well-supported cleavage.

Her arms were like steel traps and she kept me glued to her body while she rubbed my back and cooed in Italian. A quick whiff of her knock-off L’air du temps combined with a hint of garlic and I closed my eyes as the tears fell.

I’m not gonna lie: as a thirty-four year old, grown-ass woman, nothing made me feel better when I was off-kilter than when my mama held me in her arms. I’m not one iota ashamed or embarrassed to admit it.

As I cleaved to her she asked my father, “You’re sure you’re okay?” He told her he was, then, “Why don’t you take Donna into the kitchen, mi amore? Get her something hot to drink. It’s been a long morning for her.”

My mother nodded then slipped an arm up and around my shoulders. “Come on, bambina. Let the boys talk.”

I allowed her to propel me into the kitchen she’d had remodeled the year before.

“Sit.” She pointed to one of the breakfast bar chairs.

I grabbed a paper napkin from the holder on the marble topped counter, did as she commanded and sat, then swiped at my wet eyes.

This is mama’s domain. Daddy may run a successful deli and is an amazing cook in his own right, but Mama rules the kitchen in our house. When nonna was alive she could be very stingy with any kind of praise, but she always complimented my mother on her cooking skills, honed—of course—at nonna’s knee.

Moving with the finesse of one who knows where every single item is to be found in her world, Mama filled the teakettle then put it on the ceramic-topped stove to boil. She didn’t even look when she reached into one of the cupboards and pulled down two porcelain cups with one hand, the other disappearing into one of the pottery containers on the counter that held the teabags.

I sat, silent, watching her move with efficiency from one task to the other, and marveled as I’d done my entire life at what a dichotomy she was. While she had the body of a pampered goddess and could cook like one of the world’s finest Italian chefs, she wasn’t – what my Uncle Sonny often remarked – the sharpest tool in the drawer. I’d always thought this was mean, but in reality, it was God’s truth. My mother wasn’t a member of Mensa – not even close—and on any given day she was known to pop out with things that made most of us cringe or she’d ask a question a bit too intrusive for the person being asked. She had a habit of saying exactly what came to the front of her mind at any given moment with no regard to filtering it. This was one of the reasons my father never let her work in the deli. She couldn’t be trusted around the customers to self-censor. But, despite this one flaw, he adored her, as did I.

She reached into the cabinet under the sink and grabbed the bottle of brandy she kept there for emergencies. When my nonna had been alive, the bottle had gotten a great deal of use, especially after one of her visits. Mama poured way more than a shot-glass full into my teacup after adding the boiling water. She let it steep for less than a minute then handed it to me.

“Drink this. And then tell me everything ‘cause I know your daddy won’t. He’ll gloss over details thinking he’s protecting me.” She waved a hand in the air with a dismissive flick.

Intrigued? More to come when I have a cover, but I’m thinking an October release. I’ll let ya know.

Until next time, peeps ~ Peg

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#SundaySnippet 8.2.2020 – WOKE, free on Kindle

Since WOKE is free on kindle until 8/5/2020, I thought it appropriate I put a little snippet here today to whet your book reading appetite.

“Thank you. Two hundred thousand dollars will go a long way in helping the center with operating costs. A long, long way.”

“It’s my client who deserves the thanks. Like I said, he wanted the painting and I was instructed to do whatever it took to acquire it. But the fact that the money he’s paying is going to a worthy cause is more a bonus for me than him.”

“In what way?”

He shifted and leaned in closer. I found myself doing the same as if I were being pulled by an invisible rope toward him. I startled when our knees bumped under the table.

With his voice low and wildly arousing, and his gaze centered squarely on my face, he said, “It got me to put a name to, and share a meal with, the beautiful woman I haven’t been able to get out of my head ever since I bumped into her this morning. Any price was worth it for that. I was prepared to go as high as needed.”

To say his words filled me with pleasure would be decidedly too tame. My toes curled inside my Kate Spade kitten heels and I found myself unable to sit still in my chair as excitement flowed through me mixed with a healthy dose of lust. I tried to pull my gaze away from his, but honestly, it was impossible. I couldn’t not look at him. It was as if I’d been mesmerized and compelled to stare at him.

His lips were parted a fraction, and this close to me, I had the mad urge again to lean forward and press mine against them.

Because I could see myself actually doing it, I called up the little amount of willpower I could summon and shifted back a bit before I embarrassed myself in front of a table full of people, one of whom was my mother.

He continued to hold my gaze prisoner, that appealing half grin still in place.

From somewhere deep down my twenty-year-old self sprang forth, unbidden and unexpected.

“Why Mr. Enright, are you flirting with me?”

He leaned even closer and asked, “How am I doing?”

Intrigued? Download your free Kindle copy here: WOKE

Until next time, peeps  ~ Peg

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WOKE is FREE on Kindle for a limited time

So, I’m doing something for the first time EVER!!! From Saturday, August 1 until Wednesday, August 5, the ebook version of WOKE, my Sleeping Beauty redux, will be freefreefree on Kindle.

To download your copy and read it – if you haven’t yet – here’s the link: WOKE

And I’ll ask just one favor – if you do download it and happen to like it ( which I hope you will) please consider writing a review for Amazon. It can be short or long, I don’t care. But the more reviews I garner, the more Amazon will help promote the book and in this day and age, that is HUGE for an author.

Thanks, peeps.

Waking up each day is a gift….

On her 21st birthday, someone slipped a potent drug combination into socialite Aurora Brightwell’s champagne putting her in a coma for the next ten years. It’s been a long road back, and it’s time to reclaim the life she lost and find out exactly what happened on that fateful night.

Financier Kincade Enright has his own reason for helping Aurora discover who poisoned her, but for the time being he’s keeping that – and his true identity – to himself. What he can’t keep hidden though, are his growing feelings for the one-time paparazzi darling and party-girl.

When this prince of finance joins forces with the former sleeping beauty, nothing can stop them from finding the answers they seek…or prevent the powerful emotions developing between them as they search for the truth.

 

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The argument for #DNF (did not finish)

I seem to find myself embroiled in a few doozies of online chats of late. The most current one involves a bunch of reviewers and authors debating the DNF option of Netgalley and Booksprout.

I happen to do reviews for Netgalley and put my books up on both sites to garner reviews, so I know how both systems work.

Many times on Netgalley I have received a 1 star review and then the reviewer has said they did not finish the book. This seems unrealistically unfair to me.

I have no problem with a reader not finishing it. Not every book is for every reader and I do my own share of DNF’ing. What I object to is Netgalley allowing a rating on a book that was not read to completion. They have a DNF button on the site for reviewers to use. Why some people don’t is beyond me. Same thing goes for Goodreads. Why review a book you didn’t finish? Just to tell people that you didn’t like it? Again, sounds a little nasty, doesn’t it?

I sincerely don’t mind a DNF on my work. In fact, I would prefer it to an abysmal rating that destroys my ranking on Amazon and Goodreads.

I don’t think I’m the only author who feels this way, either.

 

 

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DIRTY DAMSELS is a RAVEN AWARD finalist!!! Please Vote!

 

This is so exciting and the first time it’s ever happened to one of my books! DIRTY DAMSELS is a FINALIST in the 2020 Raven Awards from UNCAGED book Reviews. I’d really appreciate your vote, too!!!

Voting is open from now until 8/1/2020 here: RAVEN AWARDS

DIRTY DAMSELS is in the Contemporary Category, so just scroll down and it’s listed first. Click the bubble next to the book’s name and then hit VOTE!!!

Bless you all. A win like this is a real boost to a book’s exposure – something every writer is working for!

DIRTY DAMSELS 

What if Cynderella had a one-night stand with a man named Prince?

When I first saw Cynderella all covered in soot in that sexy maid uniform, I knew I wanted to be her Prince.She’s a smart and savvy businesswoman who’s built her cleaning company from the ground up. But now that Dirty Damsels was booming, I’ve been hired to arrange a hostile takeover. But the temptation of having her was too much to ignore… We ended up spending one night together–a night neither of us will forget. Now, I want more. I need more. I want to spend every night, skin-on-skin, with my beautiful Ella. Problem is, when she finds out who I really am, she’ll never forgive me. ~Buddy Prince

 

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#Author Jeny Heckman and her new release THE WARRIOR’S PROGENY

Hey kids – you know, sometimes you meet a person who just touches your soul in ways you can’t describe. They walk into your life one day and you just know you’re going to connect on a some level. That’s the way I felt when I met, in person, my Wild Rose Press sistah Jeny Heckman last year in NYC at the RWA conference. She is a ray of light, so sweet, funny, and smart. Just check out her bio picture, below. It depicts her personality to the max!! Plus, she’s a talented writer and I am thrilled she’s here today to tell you about her newest release. THE WARRIOR’S PROGENY.

And it drops, today! To say I’m thrilled she’d spending release day with me is true!

I’m gonna let her tell you all about it, but I]ll just say…you’ll want to read this book!

Here’s Jeny…

 

Hello all, thank you so much for joining me today and to the ever delightful Ms. Peggy Jaeger, goddess among all women, thank you for hosting me on your blog!

I’m thrilled to be here. Today is the release of my new fantasy romance novel, The Warrior’s Progeny. Warrior’s is the second book in my Heaven & Earth series and picks up about six months after, The Sea Archer, ends.

The basic gist of the Heaven & Earth series:

It’s been some time after Titanomachy, the ten-year battle between the Greek Titans and Olympian gods. The Olympians have reigned supreme and incarcerated those that challenged them. The greatest of these is Cronus, ruler of the Titans. He is also the father and Grandfather to most of the victors. Humiliated and defeated, Cronus swears retribution and manipulates several key people into creating a prophecy to doom his son, Zeus, and all those that vanquished him. Thus, restoring him to power, he will destroy his enemies and release the last deadly plagues upon the mortal, modern-day world.

However, Themis, the Oracle of Delphi, attempts to establish a caveat before the prophecy is completed. From her efforts, the modern-day descendants of each of the Olympians can fight Cronus and defeat him by joining the quest. The only problem… most modern-day individuals don’t believe in mythology or mythical Greek gods, so how could they possibly be the descendants of them?

In the first book, The Sea Archer, the foundation was set, and the prophecy began its countdown. Everything was new and confusing. In, The Warrior’s Progeny, Cronus and Zeus begin to understand their powers and how they can affect our world and the characters begin to understand what’s happening and why.

Writing this series has been so much fun… challenging but very fun! Wanting to stay as true as I can to Greek mythology and all its devout followers, I also want to put my own spin on the tales and behind-the-scenes no one ever talks about. The Greek gods are fallible, and the human condition is a puzzle.

People have asked me about my characters and how I get them to be so life-like. I’ve read a lot of romance novels, and one my biggest pet-peeves is heaving breasts and throbbing members that speak in a stereotypical manner, defying all reality. People speak in pauses -they interrupt each other- they trip over things and sometimes sex and romance is very awkward and uncomfortable. So, I like to write that.

My characters are chosen carefully and there are many subtle inferences to the gods in the names, demeanor and occupations. For instance, in Warrior’s the heroine’s name is Lilly. Lilies are the sacred flower of the Greek goddess, Hera, the heroine’s ancestor. Hera is the goddess of marriage, and Lilly’s story had to focus on marriage as one of the obstacles both mortal and goddess must overcome in their quest, if they are to forestall the prophecy.

Insider note on my characters: My grandfather’s name was Bert Raymond Bailey. Before, The Sea Archer, was published my grandpa said he wanted his name in the book. I promised him a variation of his name would appear in every book I’d write. So, be on the lookout for Ray, in this book.

I’d like to thank you so much for taking the time out to join me on Peggy’s blog today. I do a lot of giveaways and promotions, not to mention give some behind-the-scene details, so sign up for my newsletter to stay apprised of all things Heaven & Earth.

Have a very blessed day!

Title: The Warrior’s Progeny

 

Warrior’s Progeny Book Trailer:

If love dies, can it be reborn…only stronger?

Blurb:

Colton Stone is a newly traded tight end whose reputation is as battered as his football helmet. When he receives a vacation invitation from his new teammates, he accepts. There he collides with Dr. Lillian Morgan, a pediatric cardiovascular surgeon, and doesn’t know what to think.

A widow with two children, Lilly is looking forward to her friends’ wedding. When she meets Colton Stone, his arrogant attitude only makes her long for the love she took for granted. Lilly struggles between letting go of her perfect past for an uncertain future.

Strange events occur, out of the realm of normal consciousness. When black energy touches their world Colt and Lilly become the pawns of the immortal Greek gods. Is the love developing between them natural, or part of a larger prophecy?

EXCERPT 

Colt’s body temperature heated until his helmet, now that of a Trojan, melted and became part of his skull. Painful, thick, fire plumes ignited from the sides of his head and curved toward the sky, until they solidified in a solid line down the middle of the helmet. Black snake-like smoke wafted up from the earth and encircled his ankles and wrists, locking him into place.

The smoke turned into bindings and massaged tentacles over his chest and phallus.

He looked over at Lilly, who now knelt helpless as her skin became dusky, then turned a brilliant shade of blue. However, the color became an iridescent hue that reminded him of something just outside the confines of his mind. Her skin bubbled, separated, and formed into thousands of compact hairs. Small points protruded from her shoulders and down her arms until they freed themselves from the surface of her skin, as she screamed. Several long, hollow shoots grew, lengthening into the elegant, arching rods, as more buds sprouted from them and turned into thready feathers. As the feathers lengthened, green and blue eyes opened in intervals. At a screech of transformation, Lilly turned into a peacock, whose tail plumed out in a perfect fan. A feathered diadem lifted from her skull and the beautiful eyes all blinked at him. He wanted to mate with her, devour her, possess her, and bellowed out an unearthly warrior battle cry. Breaking his bonds, he charged at her.

Get your copy here;

Amazon Kindle: //  Nook://  iBooks:

A little about Jeny Heckman

Award-winning author, Jeny Heckman, was born in Bellingham, Washington, and was the youngest of two daughters. She met her husband, Jeff, in August 1992, and eloped three months later, at Magen’s Bay, on St. Thomas, U.S.V.I.

She wrote her first book, the Catch, in a few short months but took several years before she gained the courage to self-publish it at her son’s urging, and her love for writing began.

In 2018, Jeny knew her next project would be a series that showed adults could have adventures in the paranormal-fantasy genre too. So, she created the Heaven & Earth series, a story of doomed Greek gods and their only salvation, their modern-day descendants. Her first book of the series, the Sea Archer, was immediately picked up by the New York publishing house, the Wild Rose Press, and won, “Best in Category” from the 2018 Chanticleer International Book Awards.

In the year 2020, Jeny released, Dancing Through Tears, a short story from the anthology, Australia Burns: Volume Two, highlighting the Route 91 massacre from the perspective of one family at the concert, and at Mandalay Bay. She also intends to release, the Warrior’s Progeny, and Dee’s Cornucopia, in 2020, continuing the Heaven & Earth Series.

Jeny lives in Washington State with her husband of over twenty-eight years.

Social Media Links:

Connect with Jenny here:

Website //  Facebook //Twitter: //Instagram: //LinkedIn: // Pintrest: // GoodReadsBookBub: // YouTube //Newsletter Sign-up:

 

 

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#sundaySnippet 7.26.2020

So I just started book 2 in my Pride of Brothers series. This one tells the story of Aiden Keane. Here’s a rough cut of the opening. A very rough cut!

“Here you go, sir.” The waitress dropped Aiden’s order down next to his beer and placed the bill folder next to it. “I’ll take that when you’re ready.” With a distracted smile she moved to the next customer along the busy airport bar.

Tired, hungry, and itching to get home, Aiden bit into his pre-flight meal and all but sighed.

A greasy burger, an ice-cold beer, and thoughts of his own bed were the only things keeping him sane right now.

He’d finished his assignment less than three hours ago, given his report to the client, and then managed to book a last minute ticket home.

Home.

One of his two favorite four-letter words and both of which he’d been missing of late.

What his brother Josh had billed as a quick turnaround research job had turned into a dumpster fire straight out of the gate. Unable to get to the root of the problem from his New York office, Aiden flew to Atlanta to work directly from the client’s home turf. The promised quick resolution morphed into two weeks, then eight, until Aiden was finally able to identify who’d been bilking the company’s corporate funds.

After he’d handed over his detailed report, naming the CFO’s much younger wife and her computer-hacker lover as the culprits and providing irrefutable proof, Aiden walked out of the owner’s office and cabbed it straight to the airport.

Now, with the prospect of a few days off before heading back to the private investigations firm he co-owned with his brothers, Aiden ate and flipped through his mental rolodex for who could help him satisfy the other four letter word occupying his mind. It had been a while since he’d had the pleasure of a woman’s company, loathe as he was to mix business with pleasure.

A long while.

While he took a generous pull on his beer, he let his gaze drift around the crowded bar and indulged in one of his favorite pastimes, people watching.

Or as his older brother Dylan referred to it, asshole surveillance.

Since he was in an airport bar where happy hour was a twenty-four/seven occurrence, Dylan’s description was the more accurate one.

The three middle aged women sitting across from him and passing a cell phone back and forth, all the while laughing liked they’d had more than a few afternoon Cosmos, told him they were heading home from a fun-filled girls’ getaway and reliving their antics thru selfie scrolling.

The thirtyish guy a few stools down from them, with rolled up shirt sleeves, a half finished beer in front of him, and a cell phone propped next to his laptop where he was typing at a rapid clip, told Aiden this was a workaholic businessman, trying to get a little more done before heading off to his next meeting. The guy’s gaze flicked back and forth from the computer screen to the phone, as if anxiously waiting for it to ring.

Two flight attendants in uniform were huddled in a corner booth, sipping from coffee cups, a guy in a pilot’s uniform seated with them. Since they all looked awake and fresh Aiden figured they were waiting to head for their first flight of the day.

Overhead, the arrival and departure announcements were white noise in the already cacophonous terminal. Babies crying, kids whining, their harried parents arguing as they sped between connecting flights, were all a subtle hum. Aiden had the unique ability to shut it all out, quiet the racket, and concentrate his attention on whatever he needed, or wanted, to.

Right now, that was watching the busty redhead on the other side of the bar and the guy in the two thousand dollar suit drinking like a man who’d just returned from being lost in an arid desert for days. The minute he banged one empty glass down on the counter, he signaled for the bartender to pour him another. With each refill the redhead got a little closer until she was one thigh away from sitting in the guy’s lap. They’d already been seated when Aiden took his stool and ordered. While waiting for his food to arrive, he’d snuck glances at their interplay.

He couldn’t decide if they’d arrived together, or had become fast and furious drinking buddies. Well, the guy was drinking. The redhead was slowly sipping what looked like sparkling water.

From his perch fifteen feet away Aiden noted the concentrated way she pressed against her friend, talking low, one hand flirtatiously snaking up and down his expensive suit sleeve while the other was hidden from view under the bar top.

He imagined that hand was either rubbing the guy’s thigh, or trying to find its way into his pocket to lift a wallet. He threw that notion out the window when he spotted the wallet sitting next to the half empty beer glass.

So, the thigh it was.

Lucky bastard.

Long lashes framed eyes that tilted up a bit in the corners. From a well applied liner, or a natural lilt? Probably the former. Cheekbones modeled from ripe apples pulled up when she smiled and showed perfect white teeth. The cascade of shiny red curls drifted down below her shoulder blades. His fingers tightened around his beer glass when she dragged one finger behind her ear, tucking a tendril, and the giving the lobe a quick squeeze. The move was so innately sensual the tips of his fingers tingled to follow her lead and run them over her skin.

She leaned in and whispered something in her companion’s ear that had the guy’s eyes widening and filling with glassy-eyed lust and an expectant smirk slashing his face. A seductive grin crossed her lush mouth and for a hot second Aiden’s gut tightened, imagining what those full lips would feel like pressed against his.

Damn. He really needed to get…home.

We’ll see how it develops….

Book 1, RICK, is available in print and ecopy, here: Amazon //  B&N // Apple books

Elite bodyguard and P.I. Rick Bannerman’s job is to protect. He doesn’t get emotional with his clients, but when a woman from his past is threatened, his next job becomes personal.
Family lawyer Abigail Laine is the target of a client’s vengeful husband, but refuses Rick’s offer of protection. He walked away from her four years ago, and she swore to forget him.
Now her reluctance to accept his help could cost Abby her life.

 

Until next time, peeps ~Peg

 

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Romancing the Genres – why my fave Villain…isn’t one.

It’s my turn over on Romancing the genres and we’re talking abt Villains this month. Come see who my fave bad guy/girl is from literature here: RTG

You may be surprised by my answer.

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Don’t forget- Tonight is the Love Romance Reads Book of the Month Facebook Event!

Just wanted to remind everyone of tonight’s event. I hope you can come and help support me!! I’d hate to be listening to crickets, hee hee

Here are the  links:

The live FBMessenger chat will take place Thursday, July 23, at 8:30 pm EST.  This is the link and you need to join the Love Romance Reads Romp to participate, so click on, ask to join, and you’re set: LRR

If you want to read the book before the chat, I’ve included the buy links below. It’s a novella, so you should be able to get it read in just a few lazy afternoon hours.

Hope to see as many people as we can fit in the room Thursday. Happy reading!

Tandy Blakemore spends her days running her New England ice cream parlor, single-parenting her teenage son, and trying to keep her head above financial water. No easy feat when the shop’s machinery is aging and her son is thinking about college. Tandy hasn’t had a day off in a decade and wonders if she’ll ever be able to live a worry-free life.

Engineer Deacon Withers is on an enforced vacation in the tiny seaside town of Beacher’s Cove. Overworked, stressed, and lonely, he walks into Tandy’s shop for a midday ice cream cone and gets embroiled in helping her fix a broken piece of equipment.

Can the budding friendship that follows lead to something everlasting?

Buy Links:

Amazon // Nook  // Applebooks // Google play //Rakuten/Kobo

Like the book and want to leave a review? I’d be thrilled! Here’s where you can ( in addition to amazon, nook, etc):

Goodreads // Bookbub //

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#LongandShortReviews #Wednesdaybloggingchallenge 7.22.2020

 

 

Character Names in books I can’t pronounce is today’s writing prompt from Long and Short Reviews.

I don’t read fantasy or sci-fi, so most of the names I read I can pronounce, but there have  been a few in literature that I’ve stumbled with over the years.

As an American, I will say unabashedly, HERMIONE GRANGER was a name I had so much difficulty with, as did my daughter, when we first read the Harry Potter series. We both thought it was pronounced HERMI-ONE ( like the number 1) until I heard JKRowling’s pronounce it on the Rosey O’Donnell show. After that we were good.

HERCULES POIROT by the amazeballs Agatha Christie. I read my first Poirot when I was 12 and thought his name was pronounced HerculEEEEZE PI-O-RATE. Nope. Not even close.

 

SCHEHERAZADE. Too many vowels and consonants placed too close together on this one for me to be able to pronounce it correctly until I heard it done so my a librarian.

Those are the ones I can remember from the top of my head. Let’s see what some of the other authors in this challenge have to say: L&SR

And before I forget, tomorrow night, JULY 23 I will be the featured guest on the Love Romance Reads Facebook chat because my summer book VANILLA WITH A TWIST was voted the book of the month. Hope you can join us – it promises to be fun!

Here’s the link to join: LRRBoTMChat

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