Category Archives: sunday snippet

#SundaySnippet #PNR #Ghosts THE HAUNTING OF WILTON JUNE

I know reviews for this story are all over the spectrum, but I just love the chemistry between Will and Jerica in THE HAUNTING OF WILTON JUNE.

“Have you ever been in a house that’s supposed to be haunted?”

Her eyes widened to the size of soda bottle tops and her cheeks paled, highlighting the raven color of her hair and brows. The fine tremor he’d noted in her hands before intensified.

“Hau-haunted?”

Even her voice changed, the timbre elevating almost to a Betty-Boop-screech.

“Yeah. If you haven’t, let me tell you the energy you feel in a house with a spirit is like no other you’ve ever felt. It’s like a cold wind invading your bones. One minute your body temperature is normal, the next all the hair on your body is standing at attention and your skin feels as if a thousand ants are crawling all over it. It’s an eerie sensation for sure and one you don’t soon forget.”

“You believe in,” she swallowed, “ghosts?”

“One hundred percent. I’ve seen proof they exist.”

She stared at him a few beats and he’d give anything to know what was behind her piercing gaze.
“And you’re not… you weren’t… scared?”

“Down to my toes,” he admitted, grinning. “But it was amazing, too.”

“How?”

“How was it amazing?”

She nodded.

“Well, for one thing, it made me a believer. Most people aren’t and when you mention you know ghosts or spirits exist, they look at you like you need to be seen by the nearest shrink and then committed. My brother-in-law is a psychic phenomena junkie. In fact, he’s the reason I believe. Do you?”

“Do I what?”

He grinned across the table at her. “Believe in ghosts and goblins and things that go bump in the night?”
 

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#SnippetSunday CHANCE( Last Man Standing) #preorder #comingsoon

So here’s little sumthin’ sumthin’ from my upcoming Sweet romance, CHANCE, part of the Last Man Standing series.

You all know that guy: the confirmed bachelor who vows he’s never gonna be tied down to one woman.

And you all know, as writers, we just love to see guys like this fall! LOL.

Chance Miller, divorce lawyer extraordinaire, knows the whole happily ever after dream is an urban myth. He deals with miserable and wedded warring couples every day and swears staying single keeps him sane and happy. His friends and family consider him the last single man standing and fear he’ll never find someone and settle down. But Chance relishes his carefree status and unencumbered lifestyle and has no plans to change anything.

If only his relatives would stop trying to set him up with their version of the perfect woman.

Fredrika Poole already experienced her one great love, and the widow can’t read any future romance in her tea leaves. She’s content to bake, run her business, and care for her daughter.

When Chance meets Freddie and discovers her marriage thoughts run on the same road his do, he realizes she’s the answer to his prayer for keeping the relatives at bay. But the pixie barista has a way of making Chance question everything he’s always thought about love, marriage, and wedded bliss.

Will his last man standing status go unchallenged? Or will Freddie be the one woman he wants…but can never have?

Intrigued? Read on….

Before he could stop himself, he said,  “Let me take you to dinner.” The request surprised him and, apparently, Freddie. Even in the subdued lighting surrounding them he could see her eyes go wide, her mouth drop open.

“Wh-what? Why?”

A good question and one he’d try to answer for himself later on. For now, though, he had the uncontrollable urge to feed her. “I’m sure you didn’t get a break all day and you must be starved. I know I am.”

The quizzical quirk to her brow was followed by, “I’m not dressed to go out to dinner.”

He shrugged. “Doesn’t have to be fancy. I love diner food as much as the next guy. In fact, there’s a great place one block up. Best breakfast in town and their burgers are insane.”

She didn’t look convinced.

“You don’t have to run home and fix supper for…anyone, do you?”

Why to go, Chance. You never even considered if she was married before blurting out your invitation.

She didn’t wear a wedding ring and in his experience women always did. It was the men who removed them or elected to keep their fingers naked.

“No,” she said.

“So, no husband waiting for you to get dinner on the table?” he asked because he had to be clear on the subject.

For a fleeting moment, something he couldn’t get a bead on crossed her eyes. Then it was gone. “That’s a little sexist, you know, assuming it’s the wife who has to always make dinner.”

She was right. “Sorry. That was stupid of me.”

Her left eyebrow rose as she considered his remark. He felt like a jerk asking again but he really wanted to know.

“I wouldn’t use the word stupid,” she said. “Maybe unenlightened.”

That pulled a grin from him.

“But no. No husband at home.”

He held back his sigh of relief, then wondered why she didn’t have a guy waiting at home for her. He knew asking would truly make him sound insensitive so he kept the question to himself.

“Then how do the best burgers in the city sound?”

Chance had always been good at reading body language. It was a talent that had suited him well when the words a client spoke often didn’t jive with the truth of the situation. Their bodies outted them every time.

When Freddie’s shoulders dropped from their hunched position under her ears he knew he was making headway.

“Look,” he said, pulling out a grin he usually reserved for friends and family, “I know you don’t know anything about me other than I’m a divorce lawyer and I like coffee.”

A half-smile slid up her face. “And corn muffins.”

He nodded. “But I’m not a serial murder, I don’t cheat on my taxes, and if you ask my sister she’d tell you other than the fact I tend to argue a point to death, I’m a good guy.”

A full smile graced her face from that declaration.

Progress.

“So what’d’ya say? Wanna grab something to eat before you head home?”

He held his breath waiting for her answer.

After a few moments when he wondered if he’d ever be able to breathe again, she said, “Well,” as she shifted her bag to the other shoulder. “I am hungry, that’s the truth. It was a long day and I didn’t get a break.”

“Is that a yes?”

Please let it be a yes.

With her lips pressed together and her eyes narrowed slightly she finally –finally – nodded. “I guess it is.”

He couldn’t stop the full-wattage smile that jumped from him.

You can preorder your Kindle copy here or buy it in print now, here.

And it will be enrolled in Kindle Unlimited, so if you’re a subscriber, you can read it as part of your subscription fee after 9.12.2022!

Happy Sunday, peeps ~ Peg

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#SundaySnippet 2.6.2022

From MIX AND MATCH –

Will their friendship always be relegated to the friend zone?

They arrived at the diner in tandem. Always hearing his mother’s voice in his head, he held the door for her, then guided her to a booth along the back wall.

“Well, now, there’s two people I haven’t seen in a month of Sundays,” Ruthie Tewksberry, the owner, said when she spotted them. “I’ll be right over, kids.”

Jasmine slid into the booth, Donovan opposite her. Before they could settle, Ruthie made a beeline for them, two coffee mugs clasped in one had, a pot of coffee in the other.

Before he could even protest, she glanced down at him and said, “Don’t worry, I brought you a teabag and the water’s coming up.” She plopped the bag down next to him.

“Ah, Ruthie, darlin’, when are you gonna say yes and marry me?”

“When I get in a time machine and go back thirty years,” she quipped, making him laugh. “Don’t mind being called a cougar but I sure ain’t robbing any cradles. Jazz, how’s your mother doing?”

“Good. Working. What else?” She shrugged.

“Woman has more ambition than anyone I’ve ever seen.” She shook her head as she filled one of the mugs and placed it in front of Jasmine. “So, you two want to hear the specials, or do you know what you want already?”

Jasmine ordered her craving grilled cheese, while he went with a simple chicken burger.”

“Give me ten and I’ll have everything on the table. Here’s your water, Van.”

He grabbed her hand and squeezed it. “You’re a living saint among us mortals, Ruthie darlin’.”

“Oh, you.” A flush ran up her cheeks as she swiped a hand in the air at him, a huge grin on her face.

“I honestly don’t think I’ve ever seen her blush before,” Jasmine told him once the woman had gone to place their order. “Do you do that intentionally or does it just come naturally to you?”

“Do what?”

“You know.” She waved a hand at him. “All that charming, flirting, full-on-accent stuff. Darlin’ this and love that.“

His grin started slowly at her attempt to mimic his accent. It was actually pretty good, he thought. Then it spread when the import of her words filtered through. “Ya think I’m charmin’, do ya?”

She tossed him an eye roll that should have looked comical but on her was as sexy as hell. “I said what you did was charming, not that you are.”

“Ah, Jasmine my love, you wound me to the quick, you do.” He made a show of placing both hands over his heart and attempting a pout. His reward for the ridiculous theatrics was her laugh, which came quick, free, and naturally.

“Now there’s a lovely sound,” he said gazing at her face.

She shook her head. Still smiling, she told him, “I truly don’t think you can help yourself.”

He shrugged. “It’s not a question of helping m’self or not. It’s just as easy to pay a compliment or give a kind word as it is an unkind one. And it makes me feel good to know I’ve been able to put a smile on someone’s face from something I’ve said.”

He couldn’t decipher the expression on hers as she regarded him across the table. Before he could ask about it she said, “Did Olivia call you after”—she lowered her voice—“our date?”

“Aye, she did. First thing the next morning. Did she call you?”

“No, which is weird. She usually checks in right away.” Her brows knit together. “What did you tell her?”

He was prevented from answering right away as Ruthie delivered their food.

“You need anything else, give a holler,” she told them.

Once they were alone again he said, “The truth. The evening was pleasant, you were a lovely woman and I enjoyed getting to know you a bit, but you didn’t think we were well matched.”

“You agreed,” she said, a tad defensively.

He took a bite of his sandwich. He hadn’t. Not really. And he hadn’t related everything Olivia and he discussed. He didn’t share, for instance, the matchmaker had said to go slowly with Jasmine. The fact she wanted to be friends was encouraging because it was the first time she’d ever said that about one of the men she’d been introduced to.

“Because you were so adamant about it,” he said.

Now Jasmine pulled a pout and hers wasn’t meant to make him laugh.

“What did she say after you told her I didn’t think we were,” she lifted her hand, “suited?”

“That she had a few more women who looked promising—her word—that she’d introduce me to.”

“Oh. Okay, then.” She sat back in the booth. “Well…okay.”

He wasn’t sure but she seemed…put off by that.

Promising.

“No more talk of that now,” he said. She visibly relaxed at his words. “Tell me what you’re thinking I should be bidding on the house.”

Preorder here: Mix & Match

Watch the book trailer here: Mix & Match

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#SundaySnippet 1.30.2022

This week, something different for my Sunday Snippet. I’m giving you a little sumthin’ sumthin’ from my current Kindle Vella story, THE JANE AUSTEN MURDERS. First, the blurb so you know what’s going on:

Homicide Detective Elizabeth Bennett and senior partner Frank Churchill are called to Longbourne College when the body of student Charlotte Lucas is found bludgeoned to death. Charlotte, a scholarship student had a healthy supply of designer clothes, jewelry, and a safe deposit box loaded with cash. Where did she get them? Charlotte had a very antagonistic relationship with her English professor, Dr. Darcy, and he soon becomes the primary suspect. But did he do it?

Snippet:

Lizzy followed her partner into a vacant row and took a seat on the aisle.

            From her vantage point, Darcy’s voice was quite clear as he spoke at the front of the room from behind a podium. Her vision of the professor was restricted, though, due to the height and distance she and Frank were. She could see his hair was dark, his skin light. He wore a nondescript pullover, a sports jacket over that. Trousers, not jeans, covered his legs. He could be tall, she thought. He certainly wasn’t short, with most of his upper body showing above the pulpit.

            “Guy’s got good pipes,” Frank said, “for a teacher. Makes it hard to fall asleep listening to someone like that.”

            Lizzy understood what he meant. The voice was steeped in a calm, controlled timbre that commanded authority. Darcy wasn’t American, and Lizzy was surprised at that. English, born and bred, if she wasn’t mistaking the accent. A small flicker sparked in her stomach as she listened to him deliver his lecture, never once referring to any notes or cards.

            He spoke of love. Tortured, unrequited love, and how it could kill a young woman’s very being through its harsh, unrewarded and unknown existence. To never know what it feels like to have another’s love returned to you in the same vein, at the same measure. A love so strong-willed it could overtake and outstrip a heart and mind of its very desire to live.

            A love, so pure, so complete, and so wanting, that it caused nothing but heartache for the one who felt it.

            Lizzy blinked a few times. Darcy’s lyrical voice conjured up a daydream where she’d actually seen the picture he was describing.

            A young woman, innocent and heartbroken, felled by unrequited love.

            She spied her own face atop that imagined female form.

            “Jesus!”

            “What?” Frank whispered, turning to her. “What’s wrong?”

            A brisk, full shaking of her head almost cleared the fog. “Sorry. I didn’t realize I spoke out loud.”

            “You okay? You look a little pasty.”

            “Yeah. I think I just need to eat something. I’ll be fine.”

            When his eyes narrowed and he continued to stare at her, Lizzy knew he could see more than she liked. She sat forward and heard the bell ring at the same time.

            “Good,” she said, rising, hoping he didn’t hear the relief in her sigh. “Let’s go.” She was two rows in front of him by the time he moved to join her.           

            The students, all female, were gathering up their things and exiting via the bottom amphitheater door. Lizzy watched several make their way to the front of the room to surround their instructor.  She slowed, knowing it would be a few moments before the throng thinned. The further she got down the steps, the clearer Darcy’s face became.

            She was correct when she took him for tall rather than short. At least six-one, he was a full head above most of the girls swarming around him. On closer inspection, the dark curly hair was flecked with silver at the temples. Unlike Bingley’s, Darcy’s hair was not in need of a trim. Full, perfectly arched brows sat over eyes whose color she had yet to ascertain. His cheeks were etched into two hollows that ended in a square, brick-hard, jaw.

            Lizzy stood on the bottom step, hands in her pockets as she and Frank waited for the professor to be free.

            “Guy’s got a fan club,” Frank whispered.

            “I see that,” she answered, her gaze staying on Darcy, one delicate eyebrow bending upwards in conjunction with the opposite corner of her mouth.

            It was at that moment Darcy looked up and their eyes met over the head of one of his students.

            Blue.

            His eyes were blue. Solid, deep, and intermingled with shards of silvery gray. 

            Darcy’s perusal never left her face as the student before him asked a question.

            Lizzy realized that neither she nor the professor had blinked once since his gaze found hers. The sting of moisture drying within them, blurry the vision, finally made her lids do their job.

            She watched Darcy when her sight cleared and focused again. He shook his head once, blinked a few times and then turned back towards his student, intent on what was being said to him.

            “Crowd’s thinning,” Frank said, moving by her towards the podium. “Let’s go.”

            Lizzy found her feet a moment later, after first taking a deep breath and rolling her shoulders.

            As they moved closer, she heard the poetic lilt of his voice. “Just write what you feel,” he said.  “I’m sure it will be fine.”

            “Really?” the student asked. The small hairs on the back of Lizzy’s collar screamed to attention at the nasal whine in the young woman’s voice.

            “Yes,” he smiled down at her. “Really. Now, you need to get to your next class. Run along.” With that the girl beamed at him, hugged her laptop to her chest and, Lizzy thought, all but floated from the room on a post-adolescent lovesick breeze.

            “May I help you?” Darcy asked when the room cleared, his question aimed at Frank.

            The senior detective introduced himself and his partner. Darcy acknowledged the presentation with a nod of his head to Frank. Lizzy thought it took him a beat or two longer than it should have before he turned his attention to her.

            That same, heated inspection bulldozed through her again.

            “What can I do for you?” Darcy asked Frank.

            It was Lizzy who answered. “We have some questions about one of your students. Charlotte Lucas.”

            She watched his reaction to the name. He slanted his head to one side, his eyes opening a fraction wider. “What about her?”

            “She was murdered last night,” Lizzy said.

            He gave no outward indication of his feeling for the news, something Lizzy found disturbing.

            “You don’t seem surprised or upset,” she said.

            “Actually, I’m both,” he said. “It’s not every day one hears that a student has been killed.”

            “Murdered,” she countered.

            That piercing gaze zeroed in on her face as he nodded, once. “Murdered. What happened?”

            “We ask the questions, Professor,” Lizzy said, rocking back on her heels.

            It took him a moment to reply. In the interim, Lizzy watched the muscle under his left ear snap, making his jaw clench and tighten.

            With a small nod, that Lizzy thought might be mocking, Darcy said, “Of course, Detective Bennet. I apologize. How can I help?”

            “Miss Lucas was a student in your Jane Austen class, yes?”

            He nodded.

            “And she was in class last evening?”

            “Yes.”

            “We understand that the two of you had an argument during class and that Miss Lucas left before dismissal. Is that correct?”

            Darcy leaned against the podium, laying his elbows on it, hands folded. “I wouldn’t classify our discussion as an argument. It was more a spirited difference of opinion.”

            “What was this spirited difference of opinion about?” Frank asked.

            Darcy exhaled and waited a few heartbeats before replying. “It was really a continuation of a theme that ran through Charlotte’s work the entire semester.”

To Lizzy’s ears, his voice took on a strained quality, as if it were an effort for him to continue. 

Intrigued?

If you subscribe to Kindle Vella, you can read the story here – three new episodes are released every week. THE JANE AUSTEN MURDERS

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#SundaySnippet 1/16/2022

#SundaySnippet

From my WIP for Magnolia Blossom THE HAUNTING OF WILTON JUNE (No release date yet but soon, I hope!)

My heroine, Jerica, is a botanist

Here ya go:

For three days they avoided one another, each telling themselves it wasn’t really avoidance as much as work that occupied their every waking moment.

Jerica knew it for the lie it was on the first day as she set out with her deliveries. From the moment Will walked out of the cottage she’d thought of little else but him.

And that kiss.

She’d analyzed it, conceptualized it, even going so far as to make a little mental chart enumerating all the ways Will’s kiss made her feel.

#1 like she was cherished.

#2 like she mattered.

#3 like she was a desirable woman.

#4 like if she’d given him the slightest prompting they would have wound up in her big brass bed spending the rest of the afternoon, evening, and night doing wild and wicked things to one another.

Her cheeks grew warm from the memory of his tongue mating with hers, sipping from it, drawing nourishment, as she printed instruction labels for the salves cooling in her workroom.

Her legs grew restless as she fantasized what his body looked like under his comfortable clothes. All that lean and lithe muscle under his shirt had felt staggering when she’d run her hands up his chest.

Her thighs shook at the remembrance of the way his erection had pressed, throbbed, and grown larger when it had been nestled against the apex of her jeans.

She berated herself when she had to start an emulsion of Slipper Elm tea twice because she’d miscalculated the right amount of elm powder and honey. She’d been picturing Will the way he looked as he’d sat across from her eating the soup and sandwiches she’d prepared. The light in his eyes had been bright, the blues in them meshing into a startling chaos of color. His lips had grown wet from sipping the soup, tiny traces of tomato-red sticking to the corners.

You need to get a grip, girl.

Once you start breaking out in an erotic sweat from the way a soup color looks on someone’s mouth, it’s time to take a break, reboot your brain, and call it a day on the naughty-thoughts-daydreaming.

Which is what she did.

Unfortunately, the moment she laid her head down on her pillow Will’s face popped into her brain again and thoughts of whether he slept in his underwear or nude raced through her mind.

She pictured both, individually, and had to throw the warm blankets off her growing-hot body.

The man simply occupied he thoughts to the point of ridiculousness.

Why, was the question plaguing her.

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#SundaySnippet – a little something from the new anthology SWEET SENTIMENT

Yesterday I posted about the new anthologies that Wild Rose Press have put out, pairing two or more ONE SCOOP OR TWO BOOKS into print versions. My OSOT story, Vanilla with a Twist was paired with another book by author Amey Zeigler in an anthology titled SWEET SENTIMENT.

It seemed fitting today, then, that I put up a little snippet from my addition!

Here’s the blurb so you know what my book is about:

Tandy Blakemore spends her days running her New England ice cream parlor, single-parenting her teenaged 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 help fix their broken spirits and lead to love?

In this scene, Tandy and Deacon are sharing a meal and getting to know one another….

“Proprietary is my middle name.”

He laughed. “Mine’s Basil.”

She tilted her head. “Your initials are D.B.W, like in dubyuh?”

His wince was as charming as his smile. “I know, pretty awful, right? In school, I was called D.B., which is even worse.”

“What do you like to be called? Deacon? Deke?”

“Deacon’s fine. Is Tandy short for anything?”

“Nope. It’s actually a mistake.”

“How so?”

“The nurse at the hospital who filled out my birth forms had a bit of a hearing problem.” She rolled her eyes at the story her brothers loved teasing her with.

“My mother wanted to name me Sandra after her own mother, and then call me Sandy to distinguish the two of us. The nurse heard it as ‘Tandy’ and recorded it as such. My father found it hysterical, so the name stuck. It’s kind of unusual, so…” She lifted a hand in a there- you-go gesture.

He flicked her a lopsided grin again. “It is, but lovely, too.”

Heat flew up her neck and sprinted to her cheeks.

“One of my partners says he doesn’t care what you call him, but don’t ever call him late for lunch.” He shook his head and forked in a chunk of his lobster. When, a half second later, he sat back and closed his eyes, a tiny moan blowing through his lips, she knew he was having a moment.

“Good God, this is even better than advertised.”

“Yup,” she said.
Deacon opened his eyes again and focused on her face.

“This is another of those recipes Ricky refuses to share,” she told him.

“That’s too bad, because this”—he lifted his filled fork—“is something I’d love to reproduce when I’m back home.”

“Where’s home? I don’t mean to be nosy, but you sound like you’re from the East Coast, only…not.”

“You’re not being nosy. We’re sitting, enjoying a meal, and getting to know one another.” He took a sip from his own water bottle as his gaze held hers. “I grew up in Rhode Island, but for the past fifteen years, I’ve lived in New York. Manhattan.”

“I’ve never been.”

“To the city?”

She shrugged and popped in another knot. “To New York.”

His eyebrows rose again.

“I’m the poster child for small-town girl. Born, bred, lives, and will die here. I’ve only been out of New Hampshire once, in middle school, for an all-states band contest.”

“Where’d you go?”

“Boston.”

One corner of his mouth twitched. “Not exactly international travel.”

“Nope. Took a school bus. Competed. Lost. Came home. Didn’t even have time for any sightseeing.”

“Now, that’s a shame. Boston’s a great town. I have an off-site office there, and I usually go up once a week on business.”

“What do you do? If I had to guess, I’d think something in”—she tilted her head again as she regarded him—“finance. You look…I don’t know.” A quick lift of her shoulder and then she said, “Successful.”

His laugh was swift, open, and free, and she felt it all the way to her toes.

“You make it sound like a curse.”

“I don’t mean to, sorry. It’s been…a while since I’ve been able to sit and chat. Running the shop is a twenty-four-seven life in the summer months, and it doesn’t give me time for other things. Like making small talk.” She glanced out at the water.

He was quiet for a moment, studying her, while she tried to hide the heat slipping up her neck again from her confession by dipping her chin.

“I can understand that. My business occupies my life twenty-four-seven, too.”

“And yet you’re here, on vacation, so you’re able to take some time away from it.”

This time his laugh held a darker, strained note.

He shook his head and dropped his gaze to the water bottle in his hands. “This isn’t exactly a vacation,” he told her. “Not in the true sense.”

“A vacation’s a vacation in my book.”

“In mine, too. Usually. But I didn’t plan to take these three weeks away. I was, well, the best word is coerced.”

Intrigued? You can purchase the ecopy here: VWAT

Or you can purchase the print version thru WRP here: Sweet Sentiments

Or you can FACEBOOK Message me for a reduced rate print copy here: Peggy Jaeger, Author

And remember: books make great holiday gifts!! just sayin’

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#sundaySnippet 10.18.2020

If you follow this blog you could have seen today’s book snippet from a mile away!!!

I just released MISTLETOE, MOBSTERS, & MOZZARELLA on 10.14, so of course today’s snippet it going to be from that!! Hee hee. Hey! I know what I’m doing…most of the time!

“Tomorrow you go solo,” I said, jumping out of the van. “Now that you’ve met all the regulars and they’re okay with you, I can stay back here and do my job.”

“I told you, Donna, people love to talk to me. And old folks adore me.”

“That’s the truth, if nothing else.” He handed me the van keys. “When we were kids all the old nonne in the neighborhood fawned over you, my own included.” Shaking my head I started to walk back inside but Tony shot out his hand and grabbed my arm.

“What?” The heat from his grip felt like I’d stepped into a natural hot spring on a cold, winter’s day. Instantly, my body warmed inside and out. How the heck could one simple touch do that?

“I wanted to say thanks,” he said, not letting go of me.

“For?”

“Showing me the ropes.” He took a step closer, still keeping me imprisoned in his grip. “I know you’re super busy with the reopen, but it means a lot you took time to get me up to speed. And I also want you to know how much I appreciate what you and your dad are doing by letting me be here. It can’t be easy on either of you, but you’ve both been nothing but kind and accepting, so thank you.”

Kind to old people, ridiculously good looking, and now a heartfelt and sincere thank you for something my father felt compelled to do. Was it any wonder I lost all brain function around this guy? He ticked off so many boxes on my what-I’d-like-in-a-man list it was scary. That I could picture what it would be like to be with him on a purely personal level and not just because he was on the job, proved scary, too. I’d been head over heels stupid in love with him at seventeen. It had taken a long time to get over the hurt from his dismissal after those glorious minutes in the back of his Z8.

I knew I had to keep some emotional distance from him now because Tony Roma could inflict serious damage to my heart.

Again.

My one saving grace was that I wasn’t a seventeen-year-old girl anymore with stars in her eyes and looking for some positive attention from the cutest guy in school. I was an intelligent, grown woman who managed a thriving business and had self-confidence up the hoo-ha. In addition to knowing the man I wanted to give my heart to for forever would want and cherish it.

I had to ensure I didn’t embarrass myself and fall for Tony all over again when I knew the feelings would never be reciprocated. One broken heart in a lifetime was all I was willing to give to any man.

I took a breath, nodded, and said, “Just make sure you find out who killed Chico. Now, I’ve gotta get back to work.”

I tugged on my arm and he let me go.

Was it my imagination he had what looked like reluctance in his eyes when he did?

Intrigued? I hope so! You can get your copy, here:

And don’t forget to follow me on my Goddess Fish tour. Here are this weeks stops, beginning with tomorrow morning:

October 19: Two Ends of the Pen
October 20: Danita Minnis
October 21: Long and Short Reviews
October 22: Archaeolibrarian – I Dig Good Books!
October 23: Unabridged Andra’s

Until next time, peeps ~Peg

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#SundaySnippet 10.11.2020 Angel Kisses and Holiday Wishes

There is SOSOSOSOSOS Much going on this month for me that I needed to take a breath for a sec before I posted this #SundaySnippet.

Okay…breath taken. Nerves calmed. 

So…one of the 2 releases I have this month is as part of a Holiday Romance Anthology titled CHRISTMAS COMES TO DICKENS. My addition is ANGEL KISSES and HOLIDAY WISHES. This little bit is from an interaction between two former lovers who are rediscovering their forgotten love for one another.

Enjoy…..

“I haven’t been here since I’ve been back,” she told him hours later as they sat across from one another in Dorrit’s Diner. “I don’t think Amy has changed a thing since we were kids.”

“Not even the menu, thank goodness. I’ve been craving a cheeseburger smothered in bacon and mushrooms with a plate of fries, for days. Here, at least, I know I’m getting real heart-attack meat and grease.” He took a huge bite of his burger, closed his eyes and sighed as the first familiar and satisfying flavors hit taste buds.

Sage’s free and open laugh dragged his eyes back open.

“I hope you have a good cardiologist where you live. And I just realized I don’t even know where that is.”

Her grin was as delectable to his senses as the food.

“Manchester, and my heart is fine, thanks.”

Now. Keep eating like that”—she pointed her lettuce-laden fork at his plate—“and it’ll be another story. Has your physician even discussed nutrition with you?”

“I don’t have one. I’m never sick.”

What? Keith, that’s being irresponsible with your health. You need to take care of your body. If not for yourself, then think of your son and how he would feel if anything happened to you. How…destroyed, he’d be.”

A shadow crossed her eyes and, automatically, he reached a hand across the table and threaded his fingers into hers. When she didn’t pull them back, or even startle at the contact, a swell of contentment surged through him.

“You’re thinking about your dad.”

The shadow flew when her beautiful eyes widened. “I guess I was. Sorry.” She shook her head.

“Don’t be. You care about people, Sage. And it shows. His loss was horrible for your family and a defining moment for you. Remember: I was there. I know how much your lives changed when he died.”

“Then you know I’m being truthful when I say you have to take better care of yourself so the people who love you can have you around for a long, long time.”

You used to be one of those people who loved me.

She unfurled her hand from his and lifted her water glass. To lighten the mood he said, “Maybe I’ll move back here and you can be my doctor.”

Her brows rose and, oh, how he wished that was hope crossing in her gaze.

“But your business isn’t here. Don’t you need to be where, well, I guess the work is?”

“I can work anywhere as long as I have a laptop and a drafting table.” He took another bite of his burger then downed it with some of his soda. “Corrine is going to need on-going care, at least for a while. Maybe permanently. I’d rather be closer to oversee it in person instead of by phone. Besides…”

“Besides, what?”

He leaned across their table, grinned, then with his voice lowered just for her ears said, “If I move back here you can take me on as a patient. Make sure I eat the right things and take care of myself.”

Her mouth curled in the corners and her eyes danced with laughter. “Why do I have the feeling you’d be a terrible patient? Never listen to a word of advice? Fight me on every healthy change I’d want to make?”

He shrugged. “For what it’s worth, I’d be the perfect patient.”

“There’s that arrogance again.”

When he nailed her with a glare he knew was filled with heat and intent, he got a strange sense of satisfaction when she squirmed a bit.

Lifting her free hand again he brought it to his lips and bussed her knuckles. His reward was the sweet, heightened color invading her cheeks.

But she didn’t look away from him or scan the crowded diner to see who was watching, what tongues would be wagging about his blatant display. No, her gaze stayed right on his and glowed with emotion.

“I would. Have no doubt. I’d be the perfect patient, Sage, because”—her eyebrows lifted again—“I’d really like playing doctor with you.”

Intrigued? Here’s the universal code to preorder the entire anthology for only 99cents CC2D and when you do, please download the FREE cookie companion, IT’S A DICKENS OF A COOKIE, as a gift to you from the authors.

You can follow the anthology and the authors on our Facebook page.

 

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#SundaySnippet 8.30.2020

Since summer is still upon us, I thought I’d add another little something from VANILLA WITH  A TWIST today.

Tandy’s maternal by nature so when she reaches out to clean Deacon’s face, she realizes, too late, she shouldn’t touch the man because there’s nothing maternal in the emotions he stirs up in her.

“Done.” She pulled a paper towel from the dispenser, and before she thought better of it, cupped his chin intending to swipe at the grime on his face.

The moment she touched him Tandy knew she’d made a mistake. A big one.

His skin was as warm as sunshine, and the scratch of his evening stubble prickled her fingertips, the sensation vaulting though her and making her…yearn. It had been a long, long time since she’d experienced such an overwhelming sensation for a man—any man. Handsome guys on vacation came into her store every day. Sometimes with families in tow, sometimes not. A quick smile, a second glance, and a tiny show of interest on their part was something she was familiar with. But she’d never succumbed, never allowed herself to actually feel something akin to desire. The road to a quick and hot night of passion came with consequences that could last a lifetime. And she was the poster child for those potential consequences.

But now, standing in her shop after closing time, with the sun long gone and only the two of them for company, Tandy wondered what would happen if she gave in to the sensations swimming within her and centered on the man before her.

“You’ve got, um, motor oil. Here. Um, on your…face. Cheekbone.”

Goodness, it was bad enough she was babbling, but her hands held a fine tremor of visible nerves, too. He had to notice it.

Intrigued? get your copy here is you are.

Looking for me? I’m here 

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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