Category Archives: MacQuire Women

#SundaySnippet 10.13.19

Since my fall themed romance FIRST IMPRESSIONS is still on sale, I thought it would be a good idea to give you another little snippet to entice your romance book loving tastes!

Heehee

Par Cleary is a master at seduction as he easily proves in this little sumthin’ sumthin;.

Friday evening rolled around and she stopped at the local market to pick something up for dinner. Thankfully, during this outing, no patients stopped her and she’d been able to make a quick selection and be on her way.

At home, she’d no sooner toed off her shoes than the doorbell chimed.

She opened the door, surprised to see Pat standing there, a sheepish look on his face.

“I know I didn’t call or text, but I saw you drive by the clinic on your way home and I thought you might like a visit.”

Pleasure warmed her. An unfamiliar sound billowed from inside his jacket, though, a jacket zipped almost to his collar, despite the warm weather.

“What have you got in there?” she asked, her gaze dropping to his chest.

His grin grew into a wide smile. “Like I said, a visitor.”

With a gentle tug, he dragged the toggle down a little and a chubby, whiskered face popped through the opening.

Oh.” Clarissa reached for the kitten as Pat opened the rest of his jacket. “Come here, you sweet thing.”

When she lifted the little bundle and folded it lose in her arms, it meowed loudly and immediately began its pulsating purr. Clarissa brought the kitten to her face and dropped soft and tender kisses on its snout. Its fur smelled clean, fresh, and so like a kitten, for a second Teeny’s face popped into her mind.

She glanced over her shoulder at Pat as she carried the kitten to the kitchen. “Since you brought me such a wonderful present, I can’t very well kick you out.”

His devilish grin told her it was what he’d been hoping.

He tossed his jacket onto the back of her couch and followed her into the kitchen.

“When was the last time she ate?” Reaching up into the cabinet where she’d kept Teeny’s food, Clarissa took a small bowl down and filled it with water, never letting go of the kitten.

“Right before I left the clinic, so she’s set until I bring her back. My night crew will make sure she gets something later.”

Clarissa set the water bowl down at her feet. Sitting cross-legged on the floor, she released the kitten, who immediately began lapping at it. Her little blue-eyed gaze stayed locked on Clarissa’s legs as her tiny pink tongue flew back and forth from the water bowl to her mouth.

“Don’t let her drink too much,” Pat said, resting a hip against her kitchen counter, arms crossed over his chest. “You’ll have a mess on your hands.”

Clarissa looked up at him from her position on the floor to tell him she didn’t mind a mess and stopped breathing. He looked so handsome, so rakishly gorgeous settled against the counter. The ink black, errant cowlick was beginning to fall forward over his eyebrow again, and her hands actually throbbed to smooth it back. He had the making of a five o’clock shadow across his granite hard jaw, and the dimple clefting his chin appeared even deeper than usual. The cotton fabric of his shirt pulled against his shoulders, the muscles in his biceps pushing against the material. He was so completely and totally male in every facet of his being, Clarissa was, quite simply, in awe.

She had to mentally fight to draw her attention back to the now meowing kitten as it demanded her attention. When she picked it up and nuzzled it with her nose, she rose and asked, “What prompted this visit? Is she ready to be fostered out?”

“Soon. I wanted you to see her again, make sure you still want to.”

“I do.”

Pat nodded. “When we get back from Boston, we can make arrangements for when to transfer her over to you.”

At the mention of their planned trip, Clarissa’s nerves pushed forward. Since she was holding the kitten she couldn’t twine her hands together to quell them and in the next instant realized rubbing the soft downy fur was a much better form of self-soothing.

“What time are we leaving in the morning?”

Pat pushed off the counter and crossed to her. With a finger, he stroked the kitten’s neck, her eyes squinting in kitty ecstasy. Clarissa watched his finger move up and down across the fur, the strokes smooth and rhythmic, almost hypnotic, and licked her lips. What would it feel like for him to stroke her the same way? It was a safe bet she’d purr and moan like the kitten. Only louder.

“Moira said we’d pick you up around eight thirty. It’ll give us a relaxed driving time so we won’t be rushed.”

Clarissa nodded, knowing if she spoke, her voice would betray the raging desire shooting through her.

In the next instant, Pat’s stomach rumbled loud enough to be heard above the kitten’s deafening purrs.

Clarissa tried to contain her giggle so she wouldn’t startle the animal, but when Pat’s neck heated with a ruddy flare and he thrust his hands into his pockets, she couldn’t hold it in.

He squinted at her, and, with a menacing glare, pushed nearer to her. “You’re always quietly laughing at me,” he said, stopping so close she could feel his hot, moist breath on her face. “I can’t figure out why I want to be around someone who always laughs at me.”

“I know why,” she said, kissing the kitten again.

When his left eyebrow shot up his forehead, she answered. “It’s easy. Whenever we’re together, we’re usually eating. You’re hungry, so you want me to cook for you.”

His face went blank, and she couldn’t for the life of her discern what he was thinking. She could hear him breathing now, not only feel it, the air pushing out of him a tad faster than it had moments before. The flushed heat on his neck spread up his jaw. She could have melted to the floor when his eyes turned hot too, the lids hooded, so much so, Clarissa finally understood the meaning of a smoldering look.

His hands snaked out and grabbed her upper arms, pulling her and the kitten toward his chest. With the animal as a buffer between them, Clarissa could feel every inch of him as he pressed her body against his, one hand circling around her back and resting on her waist, the other trailing across her jaw. His eyes dilated as he crossed his tongue over his bottom lip, all the while pulling her in closer, molding her body to his.

Her panties grew damp in a heartbeat, and when he licked his lips, she felt her nipples pull and tighten inside her bra. Desire swam around the two of them. She could smell it, musky and potent, taste it against her lips, hot and spicy, and feel the heat of it warming her from head to curling toes.

“Pat?”

He didn’t answer, but continued to hold her prisoner, gaze, body and soul. She couldn’t take a full breath, didn’t dare to, afraid she’d break the spell he’d woven around them, afraid she’d lose the thin thread of control she clutched to prevent herself from jumping on him and eating him alive.

“Clarissa,” he whispered, his nose nuzzling along the outer edge of her jaw.

“Y-yes?”

His lips skimmed her throat, trailing lazily along the column of her blouse. He placed an open-mouthed, wet kiss along the skin beneath her ear, and she finally let out the breath she’d been holding, fearful she would faint dead away if she didn’t.

“I smell turkey,” he said softly, and took her ear lobe into his mouth.

As he gently sucked on it, Clarissa felt a punch of lust straight through her midsection. “Wh-what?”

She gasped when his tongue slid against her throat. “And biscuits.”

“Biscuits?” Confusion vied with a hunger that had nothing to do with food.

“Mmmm. Turkey and biscuits.” He licked her collarbone and then sucked at the skin covering it.
“Oh, sweet Jesus.”
With a smile dancing on his lips, he pulled back

and looked at her face.

“Clarissa, I’m starving.”
She blinked a few times.
“You wouldn’t, by any chance, want to share your dinner with me, would you? Friend.”

The cloud of erotic sensations he’d spun around her finally started to disperse. His stomach growled again, and even the kitten heard it this time because she startled and dug her nails into Clarissa’s arm.

“Ouch,” she said with a good-natured chuckle. “You scared her.”

“Hand her over.” He took the kitten and began stroking her chin again.

The sight of this big, strong and utter male holding the tiny kitten so tenderly and lovingly tugged at Moira’s heart. Right then she realized everything she’d heard about him was wrong.

Wrong and totally inaccurate.

“Since you brought me such a nice present,” she repeated, gazing up at him from under her eyelashes, “I think I have enough for the two of us.”

His charming grin broadened. When she turned around to finally unload the grocery bags, she heard him whisper, “Good job, kitty. It worked.”

She couldn’t help laughing.

Intrigued? Get your ecopy while it’s still just 99 cents here: Amazon /// Nook /// Ibooks

 

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Filed under Contemporary Romance, Family Saga, First Impressions, MacQuire Women, Romance, WIld Rose Press AUthor

It’s #October and that means….a #booksale for a #fallthemed Romance!

This is exactly what it looks like in my little piece of Heaven in NH right now!! I love the fall colors, and they seem especially bright this year.

In honor of my favorite season, I’ve got one of my MacQuire Women books on sale for #99cents right now, and it just so happens to take place in the fall!!! FIRST IMPRESSIONS tells the story of Pat and Clarissa. The scene in the apple orchard while they are gathering apples for pie is one of my favorites!

Family Practice Doctor Clarissa Rogers’ first impression of Padric Cleary is biased and based on gossip. The handsome, charming veterinarian is considered a serial dater and commitment-phobic by his family and most of the town. Relationship shy, Clarissa refuses to lose her heart to a man who can’t pledge himself to her forever.

Pat Cleary, despite his reputation, is actually looking for “The One.” When he does give his heart away, he wants it to be for life. With his parent’s marriage as his guidebook, he wants a woman who will be his equal and soul mate in every way.

Can Pat convince everyone – including Clarissa – she’s the only woman for him?

You’ll have to read the book to find out the answer!

On sale now at: Amazon /// Nook /// Ibooks

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Filed under First Impressions, MacQuire Women, New Hampshire, Romance, Romance Books, The Wild Rose Press, WIld Rose Press AUthor

#NNLightsBookHeavenBookathon #septemberreads

 

Calling all readers! Have you read all your beach reads over the summer and are looking for new books to dive into this month? We’re celebrating books from all genres at N. N. Light’s Book Heaven’s second annual Fall Into These Great Reads Bookathon. 51 books featured plus a chance to win one of the following:

Enter to win a $50 Amazon (US) or Barnes and Noble Gift Card

Enter to win a $50 Amazon (US) or Barnes and Noble Gift Card

Enter to win a $25 Amazon (US) or Barnes and Noble Gift Card

Enter to win a $15 Amazon (US) or Barnes and Noble Gift Card

Enter to win a $10 Amazon (US) or Barnes and Noble Gift Card

I’m thrilled to be a part of this event. My book, FIRST IMPRESSIONS, is featured today!. Wait until you read why I think my book is a must-read in September. You won’t want to miss it. Click here: Bookathon

Bookmark this event and tell your friends:

https://www.nnlightsbookheaven.com/fall-into-these-great-reads-bookath

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Filed under First Impressions, MacQuire Women, Romance, Romance Books, The Wild Rose Press, WIld Rose Press AUthor, Writing

#August and those #DogDaysOfSummer on the #romancegems

Every month the #RomanceGems have a new reader contest. This month, it’s the Dog Days of Summer. Each book featured has a dog/pet as a significant “character” in the book. My addition is THERE’S NO PLACE LIKE HOME, my second MacQuire Women Series book from the Wild Rose Press and featuring an aging family black lab named RobRoy and a darling pair of puppies. You can see them on the bottom right of the cover in a picnic basket! TNPLH is a friends to lovers story that is one of my favorites! I fell in love with Quentin Stapleton before I ever wrote him down on the page, simply because he’s a real horse whisperer.

Symphony pianist Moira Cleary comes home after four years of touring, exhausted, sick, and spiritually broken. Emotional and psychological abuse at the hands of someone she trusted has left her gaunt, anxious, and at a crossroads both professionally and personally. Moira’s best friend, veterinarian Quentin Stapleton, wants nothing more than to help Moira get well. Can his natural healing skills make it possible for her to open her heart again? And can he convince her she’s meant to stay home now with the family that loves her – and with him – forever?

Excerpt:

“Remember when your cousin Tiffany got married in the backyard here?”

Confused, Moira nodded.

Quentin rubbed her bottom lip with the pad of his thumb. “When the Reverend told Cole ‘you can kiss your bride,’ and he swooped her off the ground, spun her around and kissed her silly? Remember what you said?”

“I think I said it was the most romantic thing I’d ever seen.”

He nodded. “The exact quote was, ‘I hope someone kisses me like that some day.’”

Her grin was quick at the memory. “Pat snorted and said I’d better be satisfied with licks from the horses and Rob Roy because no guy was ever gonna kiss me.”

“He wasn’t known for tact back then.” He rubbed a hand down her back as he held her. “Remember what happened later on behind the barn?”

Because she did, she couldn’t stop the heat from spreading up her face like wildfire. When she nodded again, he said, “You wanted to know what it felt like to be kissed like that and since I was your best friend, you thought I should be the one to do it, because you – quote – felt safe with me – unquote.”

“What was I? Eleven?”

“Thirteen. And I was more than willing. Almost broke my heart in two when you said afterward, ‘I don’t see what all the fuss is about.’”

“Q—”

“Hush.” He kissed her forehead. “Ever since that day, all I’ve wanted is a second chance. Now,” he pulled her body closer, wrapped both arms around her small waist, his hands resting just above the dent in her spine. “We’re both a little older, a little more mature. Some of us are much more experienced—”

“And conceited.”

“Experienced,” he said, the laugh in his voice quiet and seductive, “and things can be so much better.”

If you want to get a copy of the book, here are the links:

Amazon //B&N // Google Play // Kobo //

And please, enter the contest from Romance gems, too! Dog Days of Summer   and follow our daily blog !

Until next time ~ Peg

 

 

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Filed under MacQuire Women, Romance, Romance Books, ROmance Gems, There's No Place Like Home, WIld Rose Press AUthor

#1stKissFriday 5.24.19 The Voices of Angels

I can’t believe I forgot to add this first kiss when I was highlighting all the MacQuire Women books!! THE VOICES OF ANGELS tells the story of MacQuire family eldest daughter, Carly MacQuire Lennox.

Love is the last thing Carly Lennox is looking for when she sets out on her new book tour. The independent, widowed author is content with a life spent writing and in raising her daughter. When newscaster Mike Woodard suggests they work on a television magazine profile based on her book, Carly’s thrilled, but guarded. His obvious desire to turn their relationship into something other than just a working one is more than she bargained for.

Mike Woodard is ambitious, and not only in his chosen profession. He wants Carly, maybe more than he’s ever wanted anything or anyone else. As he tells her, he’s a patient man. But the more they’re together, Mike realizes it isn’t simply desire beating within him. Carly Lennox is the missing piece in his life. Getting her to accept it-and him-may just be the toughest assignment he’s ever taken on.

A sudden gust of spring wind swept Carly’s hair into her face. Mike stopped and brushed it back with his hands. He wound a curly tendril around his finger, marveling at its silky softness, its sheen. “I’ve wanted to do this since I saw you sitting in the window.”

Since she was tall, she almost mimicked his height. But not quite.
Locking his gaze with hers, he took her face between his hands and very slowly brought his head down. Her body tightened, her shoulders lifted and froze. Ignoring the response, his lips grazed across hers, tasting, testing, moving hurriedly. When his tongue parted her mouth and leisurely explored the hidden treasures within, she tilted her head back. As he deepened the kiss, taking his time, not rushing, just discovering, she finally relaxed against him.

Sweet. So sweet.

His mouth continued to move on its lazy course while his hands framed her face, the velvety softness of her skin a delight to touch. Ignoring the hammering sounds of the traffic around them, oblivious to the irritated pedestrians forced to maneuver around them to pass, he concentrated only on her.

With a steadied slowness warring with the quaking fighting within his system, he raised his head. Carly’s eyes were closed, her lips still parted. She took her time opening them, and then stared up at him through drowsy, languid confusion.

“Am I the only one who’s feeling something here?” His voice was a soft murmur over the loud hum of the city surrounding them.

“No,” she whispered. He saw the regret of her hasty reply a second later when she lowered her eyes.

“Good.” He smiled. “You just made my day.”

“Mike, I don’t want you to get the wrong idea.”

“About what?”

Carly eased out of his embrace, shoved her hands into her jacket pockets and began walking again. Possessively, Mike snatched her arm back and circled it within his.

“I…” Carly began, then stopped. “Oh, hell. I’m not good with words in situations like this.”

His laugh came quick, charmed by her nerves. “Pretty pathetic declaration for a writer.”

Carly stuck out her bottom lip in a very alluring pout. He was tempted to stop and take her mouth with his again.
“Don’t mock me. When it’s on paper I can get it right. Real life has no re-writes, no editing.”

“Granted.” The sunlight played with the alternating auburn and fire-red highlights in her hair as they began to walk again. He was convinced no color had ever been so alive.

Carly squared her shoulders. “I don’t want you to get the wrong impression about me. Concerning men.” When he didn’t comment, she continued. “It’s only, well…I haven’t been involved with anyone since my husband died. I’ve been busy with my daughter and my writing. I haven’t met anyone I’ve been interested in, I guess.”

“Until now.”

Carly turned to look at him. Irritation crossed in her narrowed eyes. “You’re pretty sure of yourself.”

“No,” he replied. “I’m more sure of you, though.”

“Excuse me?”

Mike laughed again. He stopped and cupped her cheeks. “You’re even more beautiful when you’re angry. Your left eyebrow arches ever so slightly and your eyes turn the most incredible forest green.” He kissed her and felt her pulse trip again under his fingers. “I would bet,” he said into her hair, breathing in the fresh fragrance of the shampoo she’d used, “no man since your husband has made your heart beat this fast, or your breath come in such spurts, as when I do this.” He lowered his head to kiss her again.

When she arched her back, Mike’s hands did a slow slide downward, coming to rest on the dip under her waist.

“Tell me I’m wrong,” he commanded, his voice charged with challenge.

“You are.”

“You’re a liar, Carly Lennox.” Before she could refute him, he continued, “You’re breathing is way too fast, and your eyes are unfocused. But for now I’m willing to back off. I know we’ll be together. I’m certain of it.”

“Why you arrogant, egotistical—I said you were nice. Ha!” She turned on her heel and started to walk away. His vise-like grip on her arm stopped her short. Mike spun her around, drew her to his chest, and his mouth crushed down to hers in a kiss neither patient, nor tender. It bespoke all the raw desire and hunger churning inside him.

Her resolve began to slip under his hands as she relaxed against him again. He knew she didn’t want to respond, but seemed to have no power to pull away, as he had no power to stop the craving for her firing within him. Instead, she moved closer, molding her body to his and winding her arms up and around his neck. Through her light spring jacket he could feel the softness of her body, the desire vibrating through it as her kiss answered his, meeting it measure for measure. Mike pulled her deeper, immersing them in a contest of shared longing.

A blast of sanity blew through his mind when a car horn blared close to them. He clamped down on his rising desire, and eased his hold, releasing her. Carly lowered her head and, once again, avoided his eyes.

Mike’s hand gently cupped her chin and lifted her face back to his. Through eyes narrowed to slits, he said, “Okay, that kiss was a little crude, I’ll admit. As a rule I’m not so-”

“Neanderthal-ish?”

“Good word.” He smoothed her windblown hair down with his hand and tucked an errant tendril behind her ear. “For a writer.”

Intrigued? You can get your own ecopy, print copy or Audible version here: The Voices of Angels

 

And don’t forget, HOPE’S DREAM is one of 20+ Sweet Romances in a new BOOKSWEEP GIVEAWAY.You can enter here: BOOKSWEEPS 

 

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#1stKissFriday 3.22.19

Today’s first kiss is between Moira Cleary and her lifetime best friend Quentin Stapleton from THERE’S NO PLACE LIFE HOME, the second book in my MacQuire Women series. Q has been in love with Moira since they were kids, but she’s been clueless. When he finally tells her how he feels, and kisses her UNLIKE a best friend, well, their love story really takes off.

Moira felt an intense overwhelming emptiness engulf her when he left. She started to open the front door but stopped when Quentin abruptly turned back and started up the porch steps again.

“I forgot something,” he told her.

“What?”

When he came up the last step and crossed to her, he said, “this,” and without another word pulled her into his arms.

Her first and last coherent thought was her best friend was going to kiss her goodnight. After a heartbeat, she forgot the best friend part and knew down to her toes friendship had nothing to do with this.

His lips slid across her mouth, soft and gentle, testing, tasting. Moira’s mind went blank as she succumbed to the sensation of them, hot and hard, pressing against hers in a kiss like none he’d ever given her before. Slowly, he traced her bottom lip with the tip of his tongue, silently asking her to open for him. When she did, he entered her mouth and began to explore, each movement becoming more demanding, more insistent. Moira fell against him, fisting his jacket lapels to steady herself. When she felt his heartbeat pounding under her hands, she grew lightheaded with need. Quentin framed her face with his fingertips, softly tugging down on her chin, changing the angle of the kiss.

She’d been kissed before, but never, never with such all consuming need and longing. She heard a deep moan and was shocked to realize the sound had escaped from her. One of Quentin’s hands left her face to slide down her back. When he pushed against her backside and molded her body to his, Moira’s stomach jumped. This time, though, it wasn’t with the painful contractions she’d come to expect, but with a heart- stopping craving.

A craving for him.

She unfurled her hands from his jacket and, without thought, wound them upwards, weaving them over his shirt collar and up through his hair. She grabbed onto the ends, pulled his head down closer, and held on fast.

All aspect of time was lost. Nothing mattered but the delicious feel of his strong hands caressing her back and the taste of him as his tongue mated with hers.

This couldn’t be happening. It had to be a dream.

But no dream had ever made her want like this, feel like this. When he skimmed his lips across her jaw and down her throat, stopping to take her lobe into his mouth, Moira knew this wasn’t a dream. That same feeling she’d had when she looked at him in the movie steeped through her again, tickling her stomach muscles. With a jolt, she realized the sensation was desire. Pure and simple.

Quentin pulled back and stared down into her face. With a heavy sigh, he laid his forehead against hers, a small grin tugging at the corners of his lips.

“I’ve wanted to kiss you for so long. So damn long.”

“Q—?”

He traced one finger lazily down her jaw and across the lips he’d just caressed, silencing her. “Remember when your cousin Tiffany got married in the backyard here?”

Confused, Moira nodded. She licked her lips, running her tongue across his caressing finger. The hiss that blew from him made her thighs shake.

Quentin rubbed her bottom lip with the pad of his thumb. “When the Reverend told Cole ‘you may now kiss your bride,’ and he swooped her off the ground, spun her around, and kissed her silly? Remember what you said?”

Moira tried to conjure the scene. “I think I said it was the most romantic thing I’d ever seen.”

He nodded. “The exact quote was ‘I hope someone kisses me like that some day.’”

Her grin was quick at the memory. “Pat snorted and said I’d better be satisfied with licks from the horses and Rob Roy because no guy was ever going to kiss me like that.”

“He wasn’t known for tact back then,” he said, rubbing a hand down her back as he held her next to him in the soft lamplight from the porch. The soothing, rhythmic smoothing of his hand made every nerve on Moira’s body stand at attention.

“Later on that day, behind the barn, remember what happened then?”

Because she did, she couldn’t stop the heat from spreading up her face like wildfire.

When she merely nodded, he traced a kiss across the area he’d just caressed, and said, “You wanted to know what it felt like to be kissed like that and since I was your best friend, you thought I should be the one to do it, because you—quote—felt safe with me—unquote.”

“What was I? Eleven?” she said, finally finding her voice, and unnerved to hear it whining.

“Thirteen. We both were, and I was more than willing to do it. Almost broke my heart in two when you said afterward, ‘I don’t see what all the fuss is about.’”

His lips twitched at the corners when he said it, and Moira felt the warmth of her blush intensify.

“Q—”

“Hush.” He kissed her forehead. “Ever since that day, all I’ve wanted is a second chance. Now,” he pulled her body closer, wrapped both arms around her small waist, his hand resting just above the dent in her spine. “We’re both a little older, a little more mature. Some of us are much more experienced—”

“And conceited.”

“Experienced,” he said, the laugh in his voice quiet and seductive, “and things can be so much better.”

Moira stared up into his eyes, warm and moist, shimmering under the subtle porch light. “Where is this coming from? You’ve never said anything like this, never acted like this, before. Ever.”

He took a breath and tucked her head against his shoulder, rubbing her back with both of his hands. His chest was made of granite, hard and solid and Moira felt so secure in his embrace. So comforted and so safe. If he never let go of her, she knew she wouldn’t mind in the least.

He didn’t speak for a few moments. Then, he pulled back, gazed down into her face and Moira didn’t need verbal answers to her questions. The look of blatant need and craving was so strongly etched in his eyes as he peered right through her, and for a moment, all she could do was stare, motionless. It was the same expression she’d seen on his face the night of her welcome home dinner. Then, she hadn’t known what to make of it. She couldn’t put a name to what she was seeing etched in his chiseled features.

Now, she knew.

He brought his lips to hers again in the gentlest of touches.

“I want you, Moira. More than I’ve ever wanted anyone or anything, in my entire life. I’ve always wanted you, from the time I knew what it meant.” He chuckled and added, “probably even before then. I haven’t gone a day in too long to count when I didn’t think of you and want you with me. There have been so many times the past few years when I’ve wanted to take an extended leave from the practice and go fly to wherever you were performing, just to see you. Obligations, though necessary, can be a bitch, and the time never allowed it. When Pat told me you were coming home, I thought, good. Finally. Home court advantage.” His lazy grin spread with the words.

“I never knew,” she said, tears springing up. “You never gave me any indication. All these years, you’ve never hinted at this. In any way. Why not?”

He shook his head. “I know. I didn’t know how you’d feel about it. We’ve been friends forever. I don’t have a childhood memory that doesn’t include you. We’re everything friends should be. But this is a different feeling, Moira, from friendship. So different.”

His voice broke on the last word as he claimed her mouth again, deepening the kiss instantly, and knocking her back emotionally.

“I won’t push you,” he said into her hair, kissing her temple. “You need to get used to the idea, I know. I don’t want anything to change between us.”

“How can it not?” she asked, the tears spilling over. “It changes everything, Quentin. You know it does.”

His thumb swiped softly at the drop of moisture cascading down her cheek.

“It doesn’t have to. We’re still us. We’re still the same. I won’t ever lose you as a friend, Moira. I can’t. You’re as much a part of my life as I am of yours. Our friendship will never change. It hasn’t in all these years you’ve been gone.”

Want to read more? Here’s where you can get your own copy of THERE’S NO PLACE LIKE HOME

 

Buy Links: Amazon // Apple // Google // Kobo // Nook// 

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Read a preview of THERE’S NO PLACE LIKE HOME

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Filed under MacQuire Women, Romance, Romance Books, Strong Women, The Wild Rose Press

#1stKissFriday 3.16.19

Last Friday I exhausted all my books’ first lines, so I thought I’d try something new: #1stkissfriday.

I’m going to take an excerpt of the first kiss from all my characters and each week spotlight one.

Today, of course it has to be the kiss from my first book SKATER’S WALTZ which recently had its 4th book birthday.

When he removed one hand from her arm, she reached up to trace the outline of one of his eyes. Her finger moved from the outer canthus to his cheek, smoothing the skin she touched. “You didn’t have these little lines when you left.”

Cole stared down at her face.

Her finger roamed down to the corners of his mouth, outlining them, then on to the small dent in the middle of his chin. An impish grin fanned across her face. “I remember being little and wondering if I smoothed this line away would I be able to see inside you, like it was a door or some kind of opening to your insides. Dumb, huh?”

“Sweet,” he said, softly. “Little girl sweet. Never dumb.”

Her eyes traveled up to his and locked there.

“When I got older I wondered what it would be like to kiss it.”

His breath hitched.

“Would it taste like soap, left over from shaving, or would it be all spiky and nubby because you missed a few hairs. Or would it taste uniquely like you do. I still wonder about that.”

“Tiffany.”

Knowing what he was about to do, and to whom, should have sent him jumping off the couch, running in the other direction. Instead, when his head came down to hers all Cole could think about was how much he wanted to taste her again, how he wanted to lose himself in her, and how both those feelings somehow seemed right, even though he knew they shouldn’t.

Her body tensed as he inched closer. When his lips finally captured hers, she turned fluid under his hands.

Her smooth, small body slackened beneath him as his lips gently moved across hers, tasting them, savoring them. Releasing his grip on her arms, he leaned on his elbows and ran his fingers into her hair, cupping her face while holding fistfuls of the glorious mane.

New, strange emotions jumped about in his body, heightening the sensation of every touch, every caress. She had a mouth made for kissing, for being pleasured and for giving pleasure in return. When he parted her lips with his tongue and edged into the inner treasures of her mouth, taking every inch of it captive, Cole felt as if he was falling to an abyss of pure and total joy.

A moan escaped from somewhere within her, so raw, so seductively feminine, it made Cole’s heart jump, thrilling him with the knowledge that he was the cause.

Tiffany’s hands fisted in his hair, moved down to his neck, his shoulders, massaging, kneading the tight muscles.

His lips traced down over her perfect jaw to the small hollow just behind her ear, and she shivered against his mouth.

A hot burst of sanity blew through his mind.

With a suddenness that left him breathless, Cole pulled back and gazed down into green eyes that were cloudy and drowsy and utterly sexual.

“Tiffany—”

“If you say you’re sorry, I’ll kill you.”

Taken aback, he flinched.

“I mean it,” she said, eyes now wide open and glaring straight at him.

“Tiff, I, I don’t know what to say.”

“The truth would be a good place to start,” she told him.
Cole pulled back to a sitting position and avoided her eyes.
When he hung his head into his hands, and swiped his hair behind his ears, Tiffany sat up.
“I don’t know what’s going on here, with the two of us,” Cole said. “I can’t seem to keep my hands off you. All I think about is—God, I’m sorry.”

“You’re a dead man,” she said flatly.

Intrigued? If you want to read Tiffany and Cole’s story, SKATER’S WALTZ is available in print and ebook, here:

Buy Links: Amazon // Apple // Google // Kobo // Nook

Read a preview of SKATER’S WALTZ

Goodreads Reviews

Looking for me? I’m usually here:

Tweet Me//Read Me// Visit Me//Picture Me//Pin Me//Friend Me//Google+Me// Triber// BookMe // Monkey me //Watch me

Here’s the link to my TELL ME ABOUT YOUR DAMN BOOK podcast interview, just in case you missed it: TMAYDB

and the link to my recent interview on NewHampshirePublicRadio

 

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Filed under MacQuire Women, Romance, Romance Books, Skater's Waltz, Strong Women

It’s my #BookBirthday Let’s #celebrate with a #99centsale

It’s really amazing to think that 4 years ago TODAY my very first romance book SKATER’S WALTZ was released by The Wild Rose Press. Those of you who know me have heard the story of how this book came to be published more times than you probably ever wanted to hear. But mine truly is a Cinderella publishing story. I wasn’t relegated to sweeping, dusting, cooking, and being a house-maid, and I didn’t have a magical fairy godmother (just a wonderful editor-godmom), but my road to publication started with a contest and ended with a contract.

In the end of 2014 I entered the first romance writing contest of my life. I’d written my first romance novel and wanted to see if it had any chance of being published traditionally. I loved the book but I wasn’t sure anyone else would and I entered the contest, basically, for feedback. The contest called for the first three chapters, so that’s what I sent. And then, I simply forgot about it. I was still working full time, menopause was kicking my chubby tush, and I was uber busy in my personal life.

Four months after entering, I received an email from the contest chairperson telling me I’d won my division. Included in the email were my scores by the various judges and comments they’d made. Once the shock at winning wore off, I read all the comments and felt like I had a shot a getting published. A day later another email arrived from Rhonda Penders, the publisher of the Wild Rose Press. She was the final judge for my entry. She wrote that she’d liked what she’d read and asked if I had a completed manuscript. Boy, did I! Could I send it along to her? Boy, could I! So I did.

Two months after that I received another email from the editor Ms. Penders had assigned the book to, to be read. Condensed version here of the story : they were offering me a contract to publish.

When I scraped myself off the floor and stopped crying, I said YES.

And 4 years later, I’ve never looked back.

So, come celebrate my book baby’s birthday with me with a sale. The ecopy is only 99 cents now until March 15. If you haven’t read it yet, now’s the perfect time. It’s available at these online retailers at the sale price right now:

Amazon // Nook // Apple(iTunes) 

I’ll be out celebrating and birthday-partying today, but if you’re looking for me, you can find me here:

Tweet Me//Read Me// Visit Me//Picture Me//Pin Me//Friend Me//Google+Me// Triber// BookMe // Monkey me //Watch me

Here’s the link to my TELL ME ABOUT YOUR DAMN BOOK podcast interview, just in case you missed it: TMAYDB

and the link to my recent interview on NewHampshirePublicRadio

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Filed under Contemporary Romance, Friends, MacQuire Women, Romance, Strong Women, The Wild Rose Press, WIld Rose Press AUthor

#SundaySnippet 2.10.19 PASSION’S PALETTE

Book 5 in the MacQuire Women series is PASSION’s PALETTE, the story of Serena MacQuire and Seamus Cleary. These are two fiery personalities and it’s not unusual they fall hard and fast for one another.  In this snippet, their mutual attraction isn’t exactly what Serena is looking for.

Seamus’s pulse galloped the moment her arms went around him. Her smooth skin against his was too much. Before he could stop himself, his hand came up to her shoulder, and encircling her neck with his palm, he pulled her closer. Their lips were a whisper away from one another. When her tongue nervously flicked across her bottom lip, an explosion ripped through his core.

Was she really as sweet tasting as he remembered? He needed to know, needed the silky smoothness of her lips pressed to his again to be sure.

With a swift, firm tug on her neck, he pulled her closer and claimed her mouth.

And she was as wonderful as he remembered. She hadn’t stiffened or pulled away as he’d thought she would. Instead, she leaned into him, a willing participant showing him her own desire.

He needed no further encouragement. A gentle yank at the waistband of her pants, and she was down on his lap. Her hands settled on his shoulders, touching so softly he barely felt them.

Taking her lower lip between his teeth in the lightest of nips, he then ran his tongue gently along the seam of her mouth. When she opened, allowing him entry, he explored and tasted every nook and cranny of her mouth. The notion he could sit here consuming her all day and that it would never be enough to satisfy his growling hunger for her swam through him.

Serena broke from the kiss and tried to pull back, but the firm grip of his hands on her waist pinioned her in place.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, averting her eyes.

“I’m not.”

“It must be the champagne. I’m not usually so…forward.” She shook her head as if clearing it.

Seamus studied her in silence, knowing the way she’d reacted to the kiss had nothing to do with the wine.

“Well, I’m glad this happened. I’ve been trying for hours to figure a way to kiss you again without making you mad at me. I wish you’d have asked me about this modeling business when you first arrived. If I’d known it was going to bring out this kind of response, I’d have volunteered myself before being asked.”

Her head shot up at his words. Why was the irritation drenching her eyes as intoxicating as her taste had been?
“It’s no secret I’m attracted to you, Serena,” he said before she could rail at him. “I have been since that first morning in the barn. Correct me if I’m wrong, but I think you feel the same.”

“You certainly make your presence known,” she told him after a few beats. “I don’t usually kiss a man within the first five minutes of meeting him.”

“Good. I’ll take that as a yes.” He dropped a light kiss in the hollow behind her ear. “Where do we go from here with this?”

“Oh, Seamus. Don’t do that. Please.”

“Here’s a start.” He pulled back and regarded her. “Why don’t you call me Jim like everyone else does?”

Serena’s gaze flitted across his lips and landed at the scar. “No, I don’t think I can do that. Your name is too unusual. Too…I don’t know,” she said with a delicate shrug. “Too you. I like your name. It fits you. Like this house does.”

Charmed, he said, “Okay. Forget the name. How about having dinner with me tomorrow? I promise this time I’ll go grocery shopping.”

“You just want me to cook for you again.” She broke into a wide grin.

“Well, you could. Or we could go out on a real date.”

After a second, the humor dancing in her eyes faded. She bit down on the corner of her bottom lip. “Seamus, maybe this isn’t a good idea. I mean, I’ve been so busy lately with everything in my life, I don’t know if I really want to add a…relationship…to it now. I don’t think I could do it justice.”

His hand came up and tenderly smoothed the burgeoning furrow between her eyes. “I’m not asking you to free the known world, Serena. Just out to dinner. The answer is simple. Yes or no. No heavy thought involved.”

“A real restaurant?” she asked after a few moments.

“You get to pick it.”

“Whatever kind of food I want?”

He squinted down at her. “Why does that question terrify me?”

“The answer is simple,” she mocked. “Yes or no?”

“Smart aleck. Okay, you pick.”

“Good.”

Intrigued? Here’s where you can order the book to read more:

Amazon // B&N // KOBO // i-tunes // Google Play // Books-a-million // Walmart

and you can find all the MacQuire women books, 1-5 at the same on-line retail sites.

                     

Peggy Jaeger ~ Strong Women. Loving Men

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Filed under Contemporary Romance, Food lover, Foodie, MacQuire Women, Romance, Romance Books, Strong Women, The Wild Rose Press

#SundaySnippet 1.27.19

It stands to reason since my #1stlineFriday was from THE VOICES OF ANGELS my Sunday Snippet should be as well, no? ( Hee hee!)

Here’s the blurb for Carly and Mike’s story:

Love is the last thing Carly Lennox is looking for when she sets out on her new book tour. The independent, widowed author is content with a life spent writing and in raising her daughter. When newscaster Mike Woodard suggests they work on a television magazine profile based on her book, Carly’s thrilled, but guarded. His obvious desire to turn their relationship into something other than just a working one is more than she bargained for.

Mike Woodard is ambitious, and not only in his chosen profession. He wants Carly, maybe more than he’s ever wanted anything or anyone else. As he tells her, he’s a patient man. But the more they’re together, Mike realizes it isn’t simply desire beating within him. Carly Lennox is the missing piece in his life. Getting her to accept it-and him-may just be the toughest assignment he’s ever taken on.

and now, a little sumthing’ sumthin’ from the book:

A sudden gust of spring wind swept Carly’s hair into her face. Mike stopped and brushed it back with his hands. He wound a curly tendril around his finger, marveling at its silky softness, its sheen. “I’ve wanted to do this since I saw you sitting in the window.”

Since she was tall, she almost mimicked his height. But not quite.
Locking his gaze with hers, he took her face between his hands and very slowly brought his head down. Her body tightened, her shoulders lifted and froze. Ignoring the response, his lips grazed across hers, tasting, testing, moving hurriedly. When his tongue parted her mouth and leisurely explored the hidden treasures within, she tilted her head back. As he deepened the kiss, taking his time, not rushing, just discovering, she finally relaxed against him.

Sweet. So sweet.

His mouth continued to move on its lazy course while his hands framed her face, the velvety softness of her skin a delight to touch. Ignoring the hammering sounds of the traffic around them, oblivious to the irritated pedestrians forced to maneuver around them to pass, he concentrated only on her.

With a steadied slowness warring with the quaking fighting within his system, he raised his head. Carly’s eyes were closed, her lips still parted. She took her time opening them, and then stared up at him through drowsy, languid confusion.

“Am I the only one who’s feeling something here?” His voice was a soft murmur over the loud hum of the city surrounding them.

“No,” she whispered. He saw the regret of her hasty reply a second later when she lowered her eyes.

“Good.” He smiled. “You just made my day.”

“Mike, I don’t want you to get the wrong idea.”

“About what?”

Carly eased out of his embrace, shoved her hands into her jacket pockets and began walking again. Possessively, Mike snatched her arm back and circled it within his.

“I…” Carly began, then stopped. “Oh, hell. I’m not good with words in situations like this.”

His laugh came quick, charmed by her nerves. “Pretty pathetic declaration for a writer.”

Carly stuck out her bottom lip in a very alluring pout. He was tempted to stop and take her mouth with his again.

“Don’t mock me. When it’s on paper I can get it right. Real life has no re-writes, no editing.”

Granted.” The sunlight played with the alternating auburn and fire-red highlights in her hair as they began to walk again. He was convinced no color had ever been so alive.

Carly squared her shoulders. “I don’t want you to get the wrong impression about me. Concerning men.” When he didn’t comment, she continued. “It’s only, well…I haven’t been involved with anyone since my husband died. I’ve been busy with my daughter and my writing. I haven’t met anyone I’ve been interested in, I guess.”

“Until now.”

Carly turned to look at him. Irritation crossed in her narrowed eyes. “You’re pretty sure of yourself.”

“No,” he replied. “I’m more sure of you, though.”

“Excuse me?”

Mike laughed again. He stopped and cupped her cheeks. “You’re even more beautiful when you’re angry. Your left eyebrow arches ever so slightly and your eyes turn the most incredible forest green.” He kissed her and felt her pulse trip again under his fingers. “I would bet,” he said into her hair, breathing in the fresh fragrance of the shampoo she’d used, “no man since your husband has made your heart beat this fast, or your breath come in such spurts, as when I do this.” He lowered his head to kiss her again.

When she arched her back, Mike’s hands did a slow slide downward, coming to rest on the dip under her waist.

“Tell me I’m wrong,” he commanded, his voice charged with challenge.

“You are.”

“You’re a liar, Carly Lennox.” Before she could refute him, he continued, “You’re breathing is way too fast, and your eyes are unfocused. But for now I’m willing to back off. I know we’ll be together. I’m certain of it.”

“Why you arrogant, egotistical—I said you were nice. Ha!” She turned on her heel and started to walk away. His vise-like grip on her arm stopped her short. Mike spun her around, drew her to his chest, and his mouth crushed down to hers in a kiss neither patient, nor tender. It bespoke all the raw desire and hunger churning inside him.

Her resolve began to slip under his hands as she relaxed against him again. He knew she didn’t want to respond, but seemed to have no power to pull away, as he had no power to stop the craving for her firing within him. Instead, she moved closer, molding her body to his and winding her arms up and around his neck. Through her light spring jacket he could feel the softness of her body, the desire vibrating through it as her kiss answered his, meeting it measure for measure. Mike pulled her deeper, immersing them in a contest of shared longing.

A blast of sanity blew through his mind when a car horn blared close to them. He clamped down on his rising desire, and eased his hold, releasing her. Carly lowered her head and, once again, avoided his eyes.

Mike’s hand gently cupped her chin and lifted her face back to his. Through eyes narrowed to slits, he said, “Okay, that kiss was a little crude, I’ll admit. As a rule I’m not so-”

Peggy here – want to find out the rest? Here are the buy links:

amazon // wild rose press // kobo // barnes and noble // google books // walmart // books-a-million

and just for you, THE VOICES OF ANGELS is also available on audio here: Audible

Lastly, if you’re looking for me you know I can always be found hereabouts:

Tweet Me//Read Me// Visit Me//Picture Me//Pin Me//Friend Me//Google+Me// Triber// BookMe // Monkey me //Watch me

and here’s the link to my TELL ME ABOUT YOUR DAMN BOOK podcast interview, just in case you missed it: TMAYDB

 

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Filed under Author, Author Branding, author promotion, Characters, Contemporary Romance, Family Saga, MacQuire Women, Romance, Romance Books, Strong Women, The Voices of Angels, The Wild Rose Press, WIld Rose Press AUthor