Category Archives: WIld Rose Press AUthor

#TeaserTuesday 5.29.19

So I have a new series coming out from Wild Rose Press with the series title A PRIDE OF BROTHERS. It’s about a PI/Security agency made of 4 brothers. The first book is RICK’S STORY.

Rick Bannerman’s job is to protect. An elite bodyguard and P.I., he’s used to denying his emotions and ignoring his feelings in order to keep those in his care safe, at all costs. When lawyer Abigail Laine becomes the target of a vengeful client, Rick slips into protection mode even though Abby refuses his help. Four years ago Rick left Abby standing on a balcony alone, after walking away from a kiss that sent them both reeling. His refusal stung, and Abby’s sworn to forget it so she can shield her heart and move on with her life. But now she needs Rick’s professional help and her reluctance to accept it could just cost her her life. Can these two stubborn and independent people put their troubled pasts behind them and learn to trust one another?

Intrigued so far? Keep reading…

“You’re shirking your wedding guest duties,” she said with a slight head bob.

“There’s no such thing.”

“Yes, there is. As a guest, a male guest,” she lowered her chin, pinning him with her own intense glare now, “it’s your responsibility to dance with the female guests. There are quite a few unattached women at this wedding and it hasn’t gone unnoticed you’ve danced with no one except the bride. That’s bad form. And etiquette. And…rude.”

Her eyes narrowed when his laugh, loud and filled with humor, bounced through the trees. “Unnoticed by who? The wedding police? Kandy?”

Her gaze darted down to her shoes and then back up at him. “Among…others.”

With his head still cocked, he unfurled his hands from his pockets, stood upright and moved into her space. Even in her heels, she had to dip her head back to maintain eye contact.

“Others?” he asked, his voice low, so low she had to pitch forward a little to hear him. “Or…just you, Abigail?”

When he was close enough for her to know her breasts would bounce off his chest if she inhaled, he leaned down, fingered the lapel on his jacket, his knuckle grazing the column of her throat.

Her brain shut down the moment his fingers made contact with her skin. Despite the nippy bite in the air she was hit with a fireball radiating downward from his touch. It was a wonder she didn’t start sweating.

Abby swallowed.

And then did it again.

His eyes were focused on hers, those half closed lids doing nothing to shield the heat smoldering under them. “If you wanted to dance with me, all you had to do”—his gaze dipped down her lips again—“was ask.”

Dance? Lord, she wanted to do a whole helluva lot more than simply dance with this man.

“I—”

She licked her suddenly parched lips, her eyes never wavering from his sharp gaze.

In a move as natural as breathing, she stepped into the minute amount of space separating them, shot her hands around his neck and yanked his head down until their lips slammed together.

Holy Mother.
The heat from his fingers had been hot enough to singe, but it was an ice cube compared to the incendiary inferno of his mouth fused with hers. It briefly crossed her mind it was a miracle she didn’t burst into flames on the spot.

As stupefied as she was by what she’d done, she was able to glean a few pertinent details.

One, Rick’s jacket fell from her shoulders when she grabbed him, plunking down on the ground behind her.

Two, her shoulders and arms may have been bare once again, but the volcano of heat seeping from Rick’s body inoculated her against the cold air.

Three, the man’s body was as hard as it appeared to be. Pressed up against him without a whisper of space between their bodies, protected only by their clothes, every solid inch of muscle and sinew molded to her.

And four, but certainly not least, after a brief still moment, Rick was kissing her back.

Oh, mama, was he.

During all those late nights of studying when her eyes were starting to bleed with fatigue she’d close them and bring his face to mind, his lips were often the feature she dwelled on the most. Thick and smooth, she’d fantasized what they’d feel like against her own. Would they be soft and seductive? Hard and masterful? Taut and teasing?

Nothing she’d conjured in her lusty and frustrated imagination compared to the reality of Rick Bannerman’s mouth on hers. As smart as she was and as adept at language and words, she couldn’t think of one adequate way to describe how utterly delicious and amazing he tasted.

Her entire body relaxed when his hands slipped around her waist and pulled her flat up against him. The low slung back on the bridesmaid’s dress ended right above the dip in her spine. Rick’s hands rested on the space between her naked flesh and the silk material, one finger slipping below it to rest along the top of her hipbone. Lazily, he rubbed it back and forth across her skin.

Every nerve fiber south of his touch fired. The same wobbling sensation from earlier in the evening flowed through her again and her hands tightened around his neck for fear she’d fall.

Intrigued now? Check back periodically. I don’t have a release date or a cover yet, but I am in first edits, so YAY for that!!! hopefully, the book will go live before the end of the hear.

Until next time ~Peg

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A Spring Bundle of #RomanticComedies from #Booksweeps #romcoms

Today, I have a fun surprise I’d like to share with you. I’ve teamed up with 20 fantastic authors to give away a huge collection of Romantic Comedy novels to 2 lucky winners, PLUS a brand new eReader to the Grand Prize winner!
You can win my novel DEARLY BELOVED (A Match made in Heaven, book 1) plus books from authors like Jinx Schwartz, Eliza Ester, Roseanne Beck, and more just by following me and other great Romantic Comedy authors on BookBub !
Enter the giveaway by clicking here: BooksweepsRomaticComedies

Colleen O’Dowd manages a thriving bridal business with her sisters in Heaven, New Hampshire. After fleeing Manhattan and her cheating ex-fiancé, Colleen still believes in happily ever afters. But with a demanding business to run, her sisters to look after, and their 93-year-old grandmother to keep out of trouble, she’s worried she’ll never find Mr. Right.

Playboy Slade Harrington doesn’t believe in marriage. His father’s six weddings have taught him life is better as an unencumbered single guy. But Slade loves his little sister. He’ll do anything for her, including footing the bill for her dream wedding. He doesn’t plan on losing his heart to a smart-mouthed, gorgeous wedding planner, though.

When her ex-fiancé comes back into the picture, Colleen must choose between Mr. Right and Mr. Right Now.

And don’t forget, I’m also part of another Booksweeps contest that will be ending this Wednesday:

You still have time to enter that contest here: BOOKSWEEPSSweetRomance

Good luck and TTFN ~Peg

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Filed under Dearly Beloved, Hope's Dream, WIld Rose Press AUthor

Look what’s new in #Audible

So excited to let you all know that CHRISTMAS AND CANNOLIS is out in Audible and available for your easy listening pleasure.

Christmas and Cannolis
By Peggy Jaeger
Narrated by Anna Marie Peloso
🎧 https://amzn.to/2EszxX7

With Christmas season in full swing, baker Regina San Valentino is up to her elbows in cake batter and cookie dough. Between running her own business, filling her bursting holiday order book, and managing her crazy Italian family, she’s got no time to relax, no room for more custom cake orders, and no desire to find love. A failed marriage and a personal tragedy have convinced her she’s better off alone. Then a handsome stranger enters her bakery begging for help. Regina can’t find it in her heart to refuse him.

Connor Gilhooly is in a bind. He needs a specialty cake for an upcoming fundraiser and puts himself – and his company’s reputation – in Regina’s capable hands. What he doesn’t plan on is falling for a woman with heartbreak in her eyes or dealing with a wise-guy father and a disapproving family.

Can Regina lay her past to rest and trust the man who’s awoken her heart?

And don’t forget, HOPE’S DREAM is one of 20+ Sweet Romances in a new BOOKSWEEP GIVEAWAY.

You can enter here: BOOKSWEEPS 

So many good things going on!!!!

Until next time ~ Peg

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Filed under Characters, Contemporary Romance, Cooking, Deerbourne Inn, Food lover, Hope's Dream, love, Romance Books, WIld Rose Press AUthor

#TeaserTuesday 5.13.19

I have another new series starting – hopefully- by the end of this year, titled A PRIDE OF BROTHERS. For those of you who remember my Will Cook For Love series, Joshua Keane ran a Private Investigative/Security firm with his 2 brothers and his best friend, Rick Bannerman. Rock made an appearance in A Shot At Love and I lovedlovedloved him so much I wanted to give him his own story. Book 1 of POB, Rick’s story, is it. Abigail Laine, one of the  7 Laine girls from the WCFL series, gets her story here, too. This is a long passage from the beginning of the book, but sets up their conflict and storyline.  Enjoy! ( or at least, I hope you do!!! HEEHEE)

A few hours and several glasses of wedding celebration bubbly later, Abby spotted the object of her lust-filled fantasies slip through the ballroom doors and out onto the terrace.

It never occurred to her not to follow him.

Spring had surfaced two weeks prior and the fading light between dusk and nightfall was grasping for a few more minutes to shine. Abby spotted him at the far corner of the balcony, overlooking Central Park. Elbows leaning on the railing, he was staring off into the distance. For a brief moment she was afforded the opportunity to study him unawares.

The person who invented tuxedos should be sainted. Or at least knighted. There was nothing else that made a gorgeous man even more attractive. If Rick weren’t a private investigator he could easily pose for a men’s eveningwear line. His physique was perfectly model proportioned according to Gemma, the professional photographer in the group, and his classic, carved-from-marble good features were captivating.

All in all a hunky, sexy guy. And one she wanted to get closer to—in the purely biblical sense. There was no doubt in her mind Rick Bannerman was a man who knew what to do with a woman, and please God she wanted to be that woman. Even for one night.

“Didn’t your parents ever teach you it was rude to stare?”

The quiet pitch in his voice bounced off the tree canopy in front of them and vibrated through her body from head to heels. She’d been hidden in the shadows and he hadn’t moved a muscle, and yet he’d known she was standing there, gawking.

Abby walked toward him, her hands clasped in front of her.

“Mom was too busy working three jobs and finding herself,” she said as she came closer, “and Dad bolted before he could teach us anything.”

Rick turned his head a fraction, his body staying in the same leaning forward, relaxed position, but the second his gaze landed on her she felt like a deer paralyzed in an on-coming truck’s blaring headlights on a lonely road at two a.m.

Her breath caught and she swore the cool temperature in the surrounding air went up a good ten degrees around him.

Maybe she should have had another glass of fortification before deciding to come outside.

“And I’m pretty confident you’re used to people, especially women, staring at you.”

He didn’t answer.

She’d give anything to know what he was thinking as his gaze trailed from her eyes, down to her mouth where they—gulp—lingered for a moment and then back up again. She couldn’t stop the shiver that jumped through her.

Rick finally moved when she ran her hands up her chilled, naked arms. He shrugged out of his tuxedo jacket in one fluid motion that had her mouth watering. When he took a step toward her and flung it around her shoulders he was close enough for her to stretch up and run her lips along his jaw and finally taste him.

In the time it took her to gather her courage to do it, he moved back and shot his hands into his pant pockets.

“You shouldn’t be out here in that slip of a dress,” he said, chinning her bridesmaid gown. “It’s still cool at night and you’re not dressed for the weather.”

Abby pulled the jacket tighter around her shoulders, sighing when she caught a whiff of Rick’s cologne clinging to it. Whether from the heady, musky scent she’d now and forever equate with him, or the dipping temperature, her nipples shot to bruising points under her soft strapless push-up bra. The dress was a shear, pale blue satin spaghetti-strapped tea length design and, as Rick pointed out, did nothing to protect her from the elements.

“Thanks,” she said.

“You should go back inside where it’s warmer, Abigail. I’m sure you’ve got minion duties to perform.”

Her back went ramrod straight. “I hate being called Abigail. Something I’ve told you many times before.”

He cocked his head a bit, the sexy, small smirk dancing across his lips again. “And still…” He lifted his hands from his packets in a “what can I say” gesture.

“That’s just mean. Calling a person something you know they don’t like.”

“It is your name, kiddo. Abigail June.” His careless shrug pulled his shirt tight across his massive shoulders. Abby’s fingers twitched to touch them. Instead, she tightened her grip on the jacket lapels.

How did he know her full name? She didn’t remember ever telling him because she did everything in her power to forget it. It was so…old lady-ish. Like she lived with seventeen cats and read sweet romances all day and night long. Alone.

“You’re such a pain.” She shook her head and pouted.

“Am I?”

“You know you are. And you’re making me forget the reason I followed you out here in the first place.” She almost stomped her foot, thought better of it at the last second.

Something shifted in his eyes. Even in the rapidly fading light, she saw it.

“You…followed me…out here, Abigail?”

Good Lord, she didn’t need the jacket at all. One glance at the hotter-than-a-poker glaze in his eyes heated her entire body.

“Ye-yes,” she answered, hating he could reduce her to a stuttering chit.

“Why?” He leaned a hip against the metal railing, his hands still secured inside his pockets. Comfortable, relaxed, and so damn hot she wanted to scream at him to take her in his arms and make her his for the night.

She wasn’t going to let him sabotage her seduction plan. No. She’d worked out everything she wanted to say, the perfect way to goad him into noticing her. If she could get him to dance with her, even once, get his arms around her, she’d be able to make him see how good it could be between them.

But first she had to get him on the dance floor and from everything she’d observed tonight, he was happy to let his dance card stay empty.

“You’re shirking your wedding guest duties,” she said with a slight head bob.

“There’s no such thing.”

“Yes, there is. As a guest, a male guest,” she lowered her chin, pinning him with her own intense glare now, “it’s your responsibility to dance with the female guests. There are quite a few unattached women at this wedding and it hasn’t gone unnoticed you’ve danced with no one except the bride. That’s bad form. And etiquette. And…rude.”

Her eyes narrowed when his laugh, loud and filled with humor, bounced through the trees. “Unnoticed by who? The wedding police? Kandy?”

Her gaze darted down to her shoes and then back up at him. “Among…others.”

With his head still cocked, he unfurled his hands from his pockets, stood upright and moved into her space. Even in her heels, she had to dip her head back to maintain eye contact.

“Others?” he asked, his voice low, so low she had to pitch forward a little to hear him. “Or…just you, Abigail?”

When he was close enough for her to know her breasts would bounce off his chest if she inhaled, he leaned down, fingered the lapel on his jacket, his knuckle grazing the column of her throat.

Her brain shut down the moment his fingers made contact with her skin. Despite the nippy bite in the air she was hit with a fireball radiating downward from his touch. It was a wonder she didn’t start sweating.

Abby swallowed.

And then did it again.

His eyes were focused on hers, those half closed lids doing nothing to shield the heat smoldering under them. “If you wanted to dance with me, all you had to do”—his gaze dipped down her lips again—“was ask.”

Dance? Lord, she wanted to do a whole helluva lot more than simply dance with this man.

“I—”

She licked her suddenly parched lips, her eyes never wavering from his sharp gaze.

In a move as natural as breathing, she stepped into the minute amount of space separating them, shot her hands around his neck and yanked his head down until their lips slammed together.

Holy Mother.
The heat from his fingers had been hot enough to singe, but it was an ice cube compared to the incendiary inferno of his mouth fused with hers. It briefly crossed her mind it was a miracle she didn’t burst into flames on the spot.

As stupefied as she was by what she’d done, she was able to glean a few pertinent details.

One, Rick’s jacket fell from her shoulders when she grabbed him, plunking down on the ground behind her.

Two, her shoulders and arms may have been bare once again, but the volcano of heat seeping from Rick’s body inoculated her against the cold air.

Three, the man’s body was as hard as it appeared to be. Pressed up against him without a whisper of space between their bodies, protected only by their clothes, every solid inch of muscle and sinew molded to her.

And four, but certainly not least, after a brief still moment, Rick was kissing her back.

Oh, mama, was he.

During all those late nights of studying when her eyes were starting to bleed with fatigue she’d close them and bring his face to mind, his lips were often the feature she dwelled on the most. Thick and smooth, she’d fantasized what they’d feel like against her own. Would they be soft and seductive? Hard and masterful? Taut and teasing?

Nothing she’d conjured in her lusty and frustrated imagination compared to the reality of Rick Bannerman’s mouth on hers. As smart as she was and as adept at language and words, she couldn’t think of one adequate way to describe how utterly delicious and amazing he tasted.

Her entire body relaxed when his hands slipped around her waist and pulled her flat up against him. The low slung back on the bridesmaid’s dress ended right above the dip in her spine. Rick’s hands rested on the space between her naked flesh and the silk material, one finger slipping below it to rest along the top of her hipbone. Lazily, he rubbed it back and forth across her skin.

Every nerve fiber south of his touch fired. The same wobbling sensation from earlier in the evening flowed through her again and her hands tightened around his neck for fear she’d fall.

He freed a hand from her back and dragged his knuckles across her cheek, then took her chin between his fingers and lifted her jaw, changing the angle of the kiss and giving him full access to every part of her mouth.

Every part.

Their tongues danced and twined, mated as if they’d done it every day of their lives. A strange sense of familiarity poured through her.

She’d been right during those imaginary make-out sessions she’d had with him. Rich Bannerman was a man who knew what to do with a woman.

No doubt about it.

The hand at her waist slid lower, down across her dress, to cup her butt and pull her in even closer. And she was proven right once again: he was hard.

All over.

A cavernous, low, primal growl pushed from deep within him as his hips swayed against hers. The butterflies flitting about within her moments before sprang free, pushed out by the firestorm running rampant through her insides. Abby knew—knew without a doubt—she wanted this man more than she had any other; that she would never want a man as much as she did Rick Bannerman.

There simply was no other man.

As the stunning realization of that thought hit home, Rick broke the kiss, tearing his lips from hers so forcefully, a sucking sound whooshed through the air when they separated. Rick pushed her away and held her at arms’ length. If the frown hugging his forehead was any indication, he was confused about what had just happened.

And unhappy.

Maybe even a little angry.

“Abigail.” His voice was rough and harsh in the still, quiet surrounding them and was tinged with…something. “You don’t want to do this.”

“Yes I do. “ She winced.

Jesus. Hard-up much, Abby?

Rick shook his head, his hands softening their grip on her arms.

“No, really,” she said. “I do. I’ve… I…I thought…”

“Whatever you thought, forget it.”

Hurt slammed up against mortification and anger.

The anger won.

“Why? If I’m not mistaken you were pretty into it a second ago. It was your tongue sliding down my throat, wasn’t it?”

The frown deepened into a scowl.

Rick dropped his hands and took a step back.

“Yeah. About that.” He shoved his hands into his pockets again. “It shouldn’t have happened.”

“Why the hell not?”

His eyes darkened, those sexy lids pulling tight at the corners. “It shouldn’t have. That’s all.”

“You say one thing, Bannerman but your body says another.” Abby shook her head and took a step closer to him, the champagne definitely giving her the courage she needed.

Rick took two back.

Now the hurt rammed to the front of the line.

“Yeah, well, when a beautiful woman throws herself into a guy’s arms and presses every inch of herself against him, his body will react. Pure and simple. “

And now the mortification blew forward.

Apparently, her good sense had taken a vacation day, because instead of listening to it as it screamed for her to retreat with the little dignity she still possessed, Abby continued on.

“I thought you liked me.”

“I do.” His head bobbled up and down. “I do. You’re a great…kid.”

“Kid?” She sucked in a breath and threw her shoulders back. “Okay, I’m gonna let that comment slide.” Hands on her hips, she nailed him with a piercing glare. “Why the brush off, Bannerman? I’ve been dropping hints left and right since we met about getting to know you better. You’ve ignored every one of them until a moment ago.”

Another step closer made him retreat again. This time his hip bumped up against the railing.

“I’m not repulsive,” she said, cocking her head at him. “Am I?’

“No. You’re not. You know exactly what you look like, Abigail.”

She nodded, her eyes trained on him. “I don’t have bad breath, or body odor, or some fatal flesh eating disease.”

A small, nervous laugh barked through his lips. “No. You don’t.”

“So why the brick wall? I like you. You like me. We’re both more than adults. Both uninvolved—you aren’t involved with anyone, right?”

He hesitated a bit before shaking his head and saying, “No.”

Relief flowed through her. “I know you’re attracted to me,” she said with a smidgeon more certainty than she actually felt. “You did kiss me back, after all. I don’t see a problem here.” The moment she said it another idea formed, took hold, and rooted.

“Wait. You’re straight, right? You flirt with everything with a vagina, so I figured…you don’t give off a gay vibe and I’m usually really attuned to guys who are. You’re not, are you?”

Again, he waited a bit before saying, “No, Abigail. I’m not gay.”

Before she could utter another word, Rick beat her to it. “Look, everything you’ve said it true. I do like you, and yes, I’m attracted to you. What red-blooded guy with a pulse wouldn’t be? You’re gorgeous and smart and—Christ.” He shook his head a few times.

She couldn’t help it: a huge smile pulled at her lips.

“But we’re not gonna do this.”

“Why not?” Good Lord, did that whine come from her?

“We’re just not,” he said, voice firm and resolute. “We’ll chalk this whole scene up to getting a little carried away with flirting and fueled by too much to drink. You probably won’t even remember much of it in the morning—”

“Yes I will.”

The heat rising up her neck and face now competed with the chill sluicing down her body. She folded her arms across her chest, hugging her upper body against the night air.

Rick shook his head again and dropped his chin. Night had decided to descend so she couldn’t see his face clearly. Was he trying to stifle a smile?

When he lifted his head a moment later, though, his features were blank.

“Go inside, Abigal. Have a slice of wedding cake, a cup of coffee. Get warm. Forget this happened.”

She should listen to him, she really should. But for whatever reason, her brain wasn’t receiving the memo.

“I could warm up right here,” she said, dropping her voice a level and hoping she sounded seductive and not like she was choking on something. “If you’d put your arms around me again.”

This time when she stepped closer, Rick purposefully shot out of her way. He sidestepped around her, stooped, grabbed his tuxedo jacket from where it’d fallen from her shoulders and slid it back on.

“You know what?” He stepped backward. “I’ll go in. I could use a cup of coffee, myself. You stay out here all you want.”

In the time it took her to register he was running away from her, he was gone, back through the ballroom doors and lost in the wedding guest throng.

Abby fisted her hands on her hips again and blew out a breath heated with frustration.

That had so not gone as planned.

I hope you’re intrigued.  POB has been contracted and when I have new details I’ll release them. In the mean time, you can see my vision for Abby and Rick on my Pinterest page: RICK AND ABBY   

~Peg

And if you’re ever looking for me, I’m here:

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

 

 

 

 

 

 

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A new #DeerbourneInn addition from Tena Stetler

The next installment in the Deerbourne Inn series comes from Paranormal Romance Writing sistah TENA STETLER. She’s brought along a guest with her today. A very…unusual guest. Let’s go say Hi…

Hey Girl! Glad to welcome you back to the blog. I’m so excited to feature another Deerbourne writer.

Good Morning Peggy. Thanks for inviting us today. I didn’t think you’d mind if I brought the hero of Mystic Maples, Silvanus Forrest, with me. Unfortunately, Mercy Rose was up to her elbows in dirt with her new creation when we left, so she won’t be here.

That’s all right, I understand. Let’s start with Silvanus. Tells us about the real you— I own Mystic Maples, a sugar maple grove on the outskirts of Willow Springs, Vermont. It’s been in my family since 1754. I provide my special maple syrup to The Deerbourne Inn and several of the café’s in town. Several of the towns people stop by and pick up the syrup for their personal use too.

Tell us three things we’d find if we looked under your bed? A box of unread mysteries I picked up from the book store in town. A couple of Raga’s balls. She is always putting them under there and barking for me to get them out.<grin>

What makes you laugh out loud? People’s antics. You never know what to expect.

What makes you angry? Individuals that take advantage of others.

What event in your past has left the most indelible impression on you? When my parents retired and left Mystic Maples to me. I’ve always loved the place and worked there since I was knee high to a grasshopper. My brother was extremely upset. He’s one of those people who takes advantage of others. He’s also allergic to hard work.

Those are harsh words for a family member.

I know, but you’ll understand after reading Mystic Maples.

What do you most value? Family and friends. Without them, there is no one to watch your back, and you are a drift in a lonely world.

What do you sleep in at night? In a bed of course. LOL If you are asking what I wear to bed, it depends on the situation. <wink>

What is the type of woman you want to spend the rest of your life with? A woman that knows her own mind, what she wants, and goes after it.

What do you consider most important in life? Having a life partner that is willing to accept you as you are regardless of the good, bad and weird. LOL

What is your biggest secret? If I told you it wouldn’t be a secret anymore, now would it? But I’ll give you a hint. It resides in the original part of the barn at Mystic Maples.

Thank you for indulging me. Now let’s hear a little from the author about writing Mystic Maples, before I let you all get back at it.

Was it fun or difficult? It was a lot of fun. I love writing stories about small towns, and collaborations with other authors. The Deerbourne Inn series was the brainchild of The Wild Rose Press and its authors. If you haven’t read the series, you don’t know what you’re missing.

Do your characters always act as you expect? Absolutely not. I think they thrive in knocking me off my stride.

Are you a plotter, or fly (write) by the seat of your pants (panster)? Oh, panster all the way. I couldn’t plot my way out of a paper bag. LOL

Hahah. Thanks to you both for taking time to visit with my readers and me. Good Luck with Mystic Maples.

Blurb:

Earth/Fire witch Mercy Rose’s insatiable curiosity always gets her in trouble. After a break-in at her Colorado flower shop, and a court battle that comes to a screeching halt in her favor, she arrives at Deerbourne Inn for a much-needed getaway. Looking for peace and quiet, she finds just the opposite in a startling handsome but mysterious man and his dog.

Silvanus Forrest’s gypsy/fae heritage is a double-edged sword. The land he inherited from his parents is rumored to be enchanted. But when Mercy discovers the truth, his well-ordered life unravels, and they’re catapulted into the past to right a wrong. Along the way their lives intertwine, and they discover the true meaning of family and love. Will they change the past in time to save their future?

Excerpt:

In the middle of the vardo an old weathered chest was completely out of place. She leaned over.

“Don’t touch that,” he barked. It was too late.

Her fingers stroked the rusted padlock. It sprang open. Puffs of dried soil sprinkled the carpet around the chest. He placed a restraining hand on her arm just as she tentatively dug her fingers into the soil. “This isn’t from your land. It’s—.” A swirl of colors sucked them in and a feeling of weightlessness surrounded her. She grabbed hold of Sil’s arm. The dog yipped. Then suddenly they were back inside the wagon.

Only something was amiss, the silence, the earthy smell wasn’t right. She shivered. What have I done? Taking a deep breath, she whirled around to face Sil.

“What the hell just happened?”

He shrugged. “You promised not to touch a thing. Let’s get out of here.” Reaching for the vardo’s handle, he pushed down, and the door opened into a small barn. He strode to the door, tugging Mercy along with him. When he shoved it open moonlight spread across an open field casting silvery shadows through the bordering trees. Off in the distance stood a ramshackle cabin.

A warm breeze swept her hair across her face. She stared unblinking. Nothing about the landscape was familiar except the stands of young trees. She bent as if to touch the soil.

His arm flew out and prevented her from reaching the ground. “It’s true,” he murmured surveying the area. His lips set in a thin line, he rubbed his temples, and stared. Mocking her. “I won’t touch a thing. Well… you did and now…”

“Now what?” she whispered.

You can get your copy of Mystic Maples here:

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

A little about Tena Stetler

Tena Stetler is a best-selling author of award winning paranormal romance novels. She has an over-active imagination, which led to writing her first vampire romance as a tween to the chagrin of her mother and delight of her friends.

With the Rocky Mountains outside her window, she sits at her computer surrounded by a wide array of paranormal creatures, with a Navy SEAL or two mixed in telling their tales. Her books tell stories of magical kick-ass women and strong mystical males that dare to love them. Travel, adventure and a bit of mystery flourish in her books along with a few companion animals to round out the tales.

Contact Information:

Website // Author’s Secret’s Blog // My Say What Blog // FB //  Twitter //Goodreads // WRP // Amazon //Newsletter // Pinterest // Triberr //Bookbub // Instagram // BookGorilla //

And you can enjoy all the current DEERBOURNE INN ebooks here: (In order)

By Reservation Only   by Barbara Edwards

Hope’s Dream   by Peggy Jaeger

Freedom’s Path   By Linda Carroll Bradd

Lyrical Embrace  by Amber Daulton

Spirited Quest     by Julie Howard

Soul of the Storm By Jean M. Grant

Lion Dancing for Love   by Laura Boon

Forever In A Moment  by Charlotte O’Shay

Witches’ Cliff   by Peggy Chambers

 

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#1stKissFriday 5.10.19

Hee hee. I love this picture, don’t you?
Any hoo… It’s #1stkissfriday and today I’m pulling a kiss from DEARLY BELOVED. It’s a little long, but I wanted to give you the feel for the animosity that turns to desire these two have for one another. As a quick set up, they’ve gotten caught in a rain storm which Colleen refuses to come out of until she’s done with a task. Slade is pissed and thinks she’s the type who “doesn’t know when to come in out of the rain,” a character trait he can’t stand.

 

“You know, I can’t figure out if you’re obstinate by nature or you simply don’t like listening to anyone else,” Slade said. He fisted his hands on his trim hips and looked down his perfect nose at me. With his brows touching in the middle of his forehead, he shook his head in disgust. Rainwater flung from his hair with the motion, the cold droplets slapping me in the face.

I flicked a few off my cheek. “Both,” I shot back, letting my own annoyance break through.

It didn’t escape me that even drenched and aggravated the guy was something to look at. How was that fair? I knew—knew—I looked like a drowned poodle. I’d straightened my hair before leaving for the office, but I could hear it frizzing and recurling as I stood there, the humidity and moisture whipping it up into a waterspout of kink. I was sure my mascara had me mimicking a rabid raccoon and God knows what other harried feral creature.

But Slade Harrington looked like a model for a popular men’s fragrance. Any second, I expected him to murmur something in French, like oui or eau.

What was it about this guy that pissed me off to no end but turned me on enough to consider licking him from head to toes at the same time?

“Why doesn’t that surprise me?” He lowered his voice, dragged in a breath, and raked a hand through his hair from his temple to his neck, slicking it flat against his skull. Like a squeegee, water slid from the tips of his fingers with the movement. “Jesus. We’re drenched.” He looked down at his shirt and pants, and then back to me. His gaze took a slow amble from my head down to my neck, over my breasts and nipples, which were—gulp—as hard and pointed as his were, then farther down. My thin, cotton-blend skirt was literally glued to me from waist to knees. I could only imagine the view he was getting.

Every inch of skin on my body went goose bump crazy under his inspection. Or maybe it was because the rain was so chilly and the day had been so warm.

Nah. The temperature outside had nothing to do with it. The temperature of Slade’s expression though, did.

When he dragged his attention back to my face, the annoyed glare in his eyes changed. Irritation was gone and in its place, want.

Pure, bold, rain-soaked want.

I can’t truthfully say who moved first, but with the next breath I took, his mouth was on mine.

And mine, blessedly, was on his.

During the moments I’d fantasized about what kissing him would be like this past week, I’d imagined all sort of things.

His lips would be firm and forceful or, conversely, tender and soothing.

He’d go slow, savoring the kiss, allowing each of us to get to know the other’s taste, or he’d swoop in and take over, overpowering me—willingly, I’ll add.

So many thoughts ran through my head and every single one of them proved true.

From the moment he put his mouth against mine, all annoyance fled and, with it, the cold. Where moments before I’d been chilled, now a furnace blasted all over me, heating me straight down to my marrow. I craved the warmth, clung to the heat.

Slade’s full lips completely consumed mine. Owned them. Branded them. Never in my life had I been kissed with such…possession. There really was no other word for it.

The sexy mouth I’d daydreamed about was at equal times hard yet soft, insistent yet giving. A thoughtful sigh bounced around my ears, followed by an erotic growl when he parted my lips and plundered. His hands, warm and wet, lifted my jaw, tilted my head back, and changed the angle of the kiss to go deeper, further, to draw out every and any response he could.

And there were quite a few, believe me.

He tasted of the rain—woodsy-fresh like morning dew—and clean. When I snaked my hands up his drenched shirt, kneading all that muscle and strength as I glided upward and then wound my hands around his neck to hold on fast, it never occurred to me I shouldn’t be doing this. I shouldn’t be standing in a storm, drenched with rain and desire, kissing a man like I’d never kissed a man before. Kissing a man who’d made no secret of the fact I annoyed the crap out of him.

A man who, for all thoughts and speculations to the contrary, was now totally absorbed with kissing me as if I was the last woman he ever would.

I don’t even remember moving, but I felt my back ram into the opened front door, slick with rain, my shoulders flattening against the wood. Slade’s knee eased between my thighs and rubbed side to side along the front part of my lacy thong while his tongue wound with mine and sucked to the same rhythm as the movement of his knee.

This time the groan that echoed around us was mine. His hands moved from my face, up and through my temples to clutch my saturated hair. A gentle tug and he changed the angle of my head again, this time though, his lips left mine to skim across my jaw. The feel of his hot breath along my neck as he made his way to my ear sent tiny shocks and jolts of electricity all through my body. I started to shiver, and it wasn’t because I was cold. About as far from cold as a girl could get, if truth be told.

When Slade let out a smooth chuckle against my neck and then pulled my earlobe between his lips and bit down, the shiver turned to a quake, then a little jump, and I simply lost the tiny bit of sanity I had left.

With more force and ardor than I think I’d ever invested with Vlad, I tugged on the ends of Slade’s hair, still gripped tight in my hands, and yanked his head so his mouth settled against mine again.

I felt a grin split his lips right before I touched the tip of my tongue to his bottom lip. The grin died when he sucked my tongue back into his mouth. That feeling of total possession overtook me again, especially when he slid his hands from my hair all the way down my back to cup my butt. Just as a clap of thunder boomed directly above us, Slade lifted and pressed me into him, so close in fact, I couldn’t tell where his wet clothes ended and mine began.

From shoulders to knees, in one fluid line of connection, our bodies molded together. I can’t begin to imagine how it felt for him to hold me this way, but I can tell you point blank, pressed against all that hard and defined muscle, all that rigid and long length of him—and, oh baby, was there a lot of length!—I felt so desired, so wanted, so bloody turned on, I didn’t care if a twister from Kansas whooshed around us and transported us to Oz as long as I could stand there, held in this man’s arms, and be kissed as if my next breath depended on it.

Look, it had been a long time since I’d tasted desire for, and from, a man. Too long. I’d thought more than once over the past year that Vlad had killed my on button with his lies and meanness. Because of his betrayal, I’d almost forgotten what deep want, that aching, needing longing, I’ll-die-if-I-don’t-have-this- man feeling was like.

For some weird reason, Slade Harrington knew exactly how to turn my sex-switch back to the on position—from zero to eleven with a kiss that shot me out of my shoes.

Another clap of thunder, closer and much louder, boomed above us. This time when I jumped, Slade’s arms tightened around me.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered against my ear, then trailed his mouth down to my collarbone. His tongue lapped the rainwater from my skin. When his lips nuzzled against the spot and I felt the subtle tug of sucking, combined with the gentle pressure of his knee between my legs, I swear on all that’s holy and blessed I was a heartbeat from shattering.

I truly think I would have come on the spot, standing up, my panties and the rest of me dripping with lust, if my cell phone hadn’t screamed “Trouble” right at that moment.

The phone call accomplished what the thunder hadn’t, namely, jolted us apart.

I snapped back too quickly, the back of my head careening off the old wooden door, the thwack competing with the crack of the rolling thunder.

Slade’s eyes went wide as soon as I yelled, “Ow!” and he slipped a hand behind my head.

“Are you okay?” He grabbed my shoulders and tried to force me forward while he dipped his head around to the back of me.

I slapped his hands away and gave him a non-too- gentle push. “I’m fine. I need to get this.”

Intrigued? You can get your own copy here: DEARLY BELOVED 

Dearly Beloved was recently named the Long and Short Reviews BOOK OF THE MONTH. You can read the review that sent it over the top, here: Review

And one last brag, I promise! Dearly Beloved came in 3rd Place in the New England Readers Choice awards for 2019 in the Long Contemporary category.

I’m so proud of this book!!! ~peg

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May 10, 2019 · 12:10 am

#Tuesdayteaser 5.7.19 A Match Made in Heaven…book 2

So I’m taking a leap of faith here because this book is currently with my editor and has not been contracted yet. If all goes well ( and pray to Jesus it does) I’ll know by the end of this month. I’m hoping for a contact. I mean, it’s book 2!! I have to let you know how the people in book 1 are doing! Hee hee

So, Book 2 gives us oldest O’Dowd sister Cathleen and historical biographer, McLachlyn Frayne. This is another of those opposites attracting romances I love so well. The heat from these two jumps off the page so I figured I’d give you a little example of it. We start the scene with Nanny Fee and end it with our two would be lovers entering a pizza parlor.

“That lovely man took Fiona to the solarium,” one of the residents told me.

I found them huddled together on a day sofa in the sunroom. They were both laughing and Nanny had a hand flirtatiously placed over Frayne’s forearm. His laughter, rich, deep, and husky was a sound I could have listened to all day long. Hell, all year long. A tingling sensation tripped up my spine when his eyes narrowed, practically disappearing from his face as he smiled. He threw back his head and howled at whatever my grandmother was saying.

It was delightful to see him relaxed and happy and I have to admit, my heart stuttered a bit when he brought Nanny’s gnarled hand to his lips and pressed a sweet kiss against her knuckles.

“Number One, all done are ya?” Nanny asked.

I came into the room, a grin tugging on my lips.

“Nanny, what tall tales have you been telling Mr. Frayne? I could hear the both of you laughing from the hallway.”

“Ah, lass, nothing bad, to be sure. Merely sharin’ a few simple stories about me time touring.”

“Oh, good Lord.” I knew exactly what she’d told him. Nanny’s days as a concert pianist were legendary in our family. Legendary and naughty. She’d had affairs with at least two dukes, one baron, and a small smattering of lesser-titled men throughout the royal houses of Europe before coming back to Heaven and marrying her second husband. And then her third. And fourth, who was, thankfully, the last.

“Your grandmother has led an extraordinary life,” Frayne said, the light in his eyes bright and clear. “Her life touring would make for a terrific book.”

“Salacious, more than anything,” I said.

“Don’t be gettin’ any notions to write about me escapades, young man.” She swatted his arm with a grandmotherly thwack. “If I ever decide to write about me life, I’ll be doing the tellin’, not someone else.”

“I’d be thrilled and honored to be your scribe,” Frayne said. “Anytime. Simply say the word.”

“Ah, go on with ya.” She swatted his arm again. “Well, now I expect the two of ya will be off to dinner. Seldrine okay?” she asked me.

“She’s fine. Lucas is with her, taking her through everything she needs to be prepared for.”

“She’s a strong lass. Well,” she sighed deep and, because this was Nanny, theatrically. “Off with ya both now. Go enjoy a good meal and you,” she pointed at Frayne, “don’t be forgetting I want a full report on Robert when you’re all done with your research.”

“That’s a promise,” he told her.

“Good. Now, give us a kiss and run along.”

I wasn’t surprised when Frayne bent and bussed her cheek.

“And you,” she said when I bent to do the same. “I want to hear all about this event Olivia told me you’re signed up for. I want all the deets, as the kids say.”

I nodded, my cheeks scorching.

“You’re grandmother is a remarkable woman,” Frayne said once we were back in my car.

“That’s one word for her,” I said, slanting him a side eye. The grin on his face was equal parts heart stopping, sexy, and adorable.

“Pathetic.” I said, my own grin tugging at my lips.

“What is?”

“You and your whole gender.”

He turned in his seat to look at me. “What have I, and my entire gender, done to be labeled pathetic?”

I cocked my head his way then turned my attention back to the road.

“A little wink, a few arm taps, and a girlish giggle and you fall like a ton of bricks.”

“What?”

The sigh I exhaled was almost Nanny-worthy in its theatricality. “You have a crush on my ninety-three year old grandmother.”

Complete bafflement filled his face. A half second later his eyes widened and he tossed out another of those deep, throaty laughs. The lower half of my body turned molten-lava hot.

“Tell me I’m wrong.” I turned the car onto Glory Road and spotted a parking spot on the street right outside the place where I wanted to eat. This is another one of those reasons I love living in a small town: you never have to search for parking.

“You’re not. God. You’re not.” His head shook back and forth while his smile turned into a wicked grin.

I put the car in park and got out. Over the hood I said, “See? Pathetic. Every man I’ve ever known falls for her the moment she shines those twinkling blue eyes at him. I swear she casts a spell with a glance.” I shook my head. “I hope you like pizza because I’ve been craving it for days.”

I walked toward the front door of Paradise Pizza but Frayne stopped me in my tracks. With his hand circling my arm he turned me around to face him. Gone was the playful expression, the laugh a mere memory.

“Cathy.”

Talk about casting a spell. I’d never really liked my name, thinking my parents had chosen one plain and common and not exotic or fancy because they wanted it to be easy to remember. Although, it was way better than being called Number One any day of the week.

But still.

“Y-yes?”

He shifted and moved in closer, his hand still gripping my arm. Through my coat, and the even the suit jacket underneath it, the heat from his hand singed my flesh. Standing on Glory Road during a frigid January evening with a brisk wind kicking around in the air, a tiny trickle of sweat beaded down my spine.

Frayne took another step closer.

The back of my throat suddenly clogged, my tongue turning the consistency of sand paper when I rubbed it against the roof of my mouth.

“What…what were you going to say?”

His pale eyes did that little tilting thing down to my lips again before coming back up to settle on my own. The hint of a grin kicked up one side of his gorgeous mouth.

“I love…pizza.”

“Oh. Okay. Well, good.” I reached to push the door open, but he beat me to it. “Then you’re gonna love this place. Best pizza in the state.”

And if you want to see how I envision Cathy and Mac, have a gander at my Pinterest board: Cathleen and Mac ( what else?? Hee hee) This is an actual scene in the book.

Say a prayer for me, peeps, that this book gets contracted. I’m working on book 3 even as we speak ( or, I’m speaking…you’re reading, but you get what I mean. I need some caffeine….)

As always, look for me here when I’m not writing:

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

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Chapters R’ Us! New Chapter Samplers from #TheWildRosePress

SO, are you looking for some new-to-you authors and books? Like Contemporary or Steamy Romance? I’ve got sumthin’ sumthin’ for you. The Wild Rose Press has two chapter samplers out now, each just 99 Cents and each with a collection of first chapters from over 20 authors.

The first, a Contemporary Romance Collection, titled FALLING FOR YOU, features the following authors, and serves all genres of contempRomance from RomComs ( me!) to Romantic suspense and more.

Sunset in Laguna by Claire Marti
Dearly Beloved by Peggy Jaeger
The Millionaire Mountain Climber by Laura Boon
Morgan’s Walk by Suzelle Johnston
Only the Beginning by Daphne Dubois
Saying Yes to the Mess by M. Kate Quinn
The Saffron Conspiracy: A Novel by Marilyn Baron
Operation Sizzle by Darcy Lundeen
Without Love by Theresa Stillwagon
Don’t Let Him Go by Kay Harris

And for those readers who like a little more spice, heat, and passion in their reads, PASSIONATE CRAVINGS is for you.

Finding Redemption by Desiree Holt
Ella’s Triple Pleasure by Anna Lores
Angel’s Collar by Anna Hague
When You Close Your Eyes by Roxanne D. Howard
Sin City Alibi by Sophia Ryan
Heaven’s Watcher by Kayden Claremont
Highland Dom by Marie Tuhart
Play A Game With Me by Cadence Vonn
Kilty Pleasures by Nancy Fraser
Through the Red Door by Sadira Stone
Better To Marry Than To Burn by Michal Scott
In Deep by Stacy Gold

More Samplers from different romance genres will be coming in upcoming months, so stay tuned!

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#author Peggy Chambers and Witches’ Cliff a #DeerbourneInn Novella

I get excited every single time I get to share another new DEERBOURNE INN series book with you. Today, it’s WRP sistah PEGGY CHAMBERS who has the newest addition to the series, a Romantic Fantasy titled WITCHES CLIFF

I always want to know the how and why authors are included in a series – and Peggy was gracious enough to answer all my nosy questions! I’ll let her tell you all about the process for getting WITCHES CLIFF to the Deerbourne Inn Series…

  1. Why did you want to be included in the Deerbourne Inn series? I’ve never been involved in a series with The Wild Rose Press before. When I first came on board, the publisher was working on the Lobster Cove series and it sounded like fun. I wanted to try it.
  2. Where did you get the idea for your submission? When it was first suggested that the stories would revolve around holidays, I chose Halloween. I thought most authors would want Christmas. I sometimes write fantasy and never strictly romance. So, Halloween fit my style. I wrote about a modern-day witch who went to the place her 10 times great-grandmother died during the Salem Witch Trials. In my story, Vermont had similar trials, but the witches were thrown from a cliff instead of burned at the stake. Still and awful way to die. She hoped to seek her grandmother’s advice on All Hallows Eve at the place where she met her demise.
  3. What is the genre of your Deerbourne Inn addition? Romantic Fantasy.
  4. What research did you have to do for your book? (if any) I looked up Vermont, Salem Witch Trials, and the Green Mountains. I also researched modern-day Wicca and where to find local wines.
  5. Was it hard being under a word count restriction of 40,000 or less? Typically, what length are your books? My books run around 65,000 words or less than 300 pages. My novella was shorter than some because I write more concisely than some authors. If a story is told, why go on and on? Ha! Actually, I just probably don’t have as much to say as some people.
  6. Plotter or pantser? I tried waiting for the story to tell me what it wanted to do, and I found it often was absent. I have to plan.
  7. Did having the book bible for DEERBOURNE INN help you with your writing? Yes, I used the book bible for the Deerbourne Inn series. It helped and I even used the map. I set the cliffs near the abandoned quarry which seemed to make sense. For instance, did knowing the names of the town businesses or the townspeople help with what you created for your book? Yes, it helped make the town and the inn come alive. I tried to include the innkeeper, book seller, and owner of the restaurant. My main character also bought Halloween candy at the local story.
  8. Have you ever been to Vermont, the setting for DI? I’ve never been to Vermont but would love to go. It is much different than the wide-open plains here in Oklahoma.
  9. What is the underlying theme of your DI book? Penny, never needed anyone’s advice though she sought it. She knew what she wanted and was strong enough to get it done.
  10. Have you ever been included in a series like DI before? What do you think are its benefits? I’ve never been involved in a series before and I hoped to get to know more of The Wild Rose Press authors by being included. And I have! I am proud to be a part of this series.
  11. How long did it take you to write the book? I wrote the novella in a couple of months and ran it by my critique group before submission. They are wonderful and I don’t know what I’d do without their honest approach to my writing. My editor with The Wild Rose Press, Ally Robertson, always makes me look good.
    Penny Winters flees to her birthplace in Vermont to consider the marriage proposal she left behind in Salem. Complicating her already difficult decision, she is smitten when she encounters handyman Liam on the porch of the quaint Deerbourne Inn. A modern-day wiccan, Penny intends to contact her distant great-grandmother, who died on the cliffs when Willow Springs held witch trials. Penny needs advice, and the best time to connect to her ancestors is on Halloween. But she is not the only witch in Willow Springs, and they both have their eye on the same man. And who is the old woman who keeps appearing, telling her to go home? Penny comes to the cliff to seek Grandma’s advice. But Halloween is an important holiday for a witch, and she is not alone on the cliffs that night. Penny will have to battle not only for Liam’s attention, but for her life.

 

BIO

Peggy Chambers calls Enid, Oklahoma home. She has been writing for several years and is an award winning, published author, always working on another. There aren’t enough hours in the day. Blooming Justice is her sixth book. She has two children, five grandchildren and lives with her husband and dog. She adores travel and the great outdoors, even if it is just taking the dog for a walk and once ate wart hog pizza for lunch when she followed her husband across deepest, darkest Africa. She even climbed the pyramids at Chichen Itza.

She attended Phillips University, the University of Central Oklahoma and is a graduate of the University of Oklahoma.   She is a member of the Enid Writers’ Club and Oklahoma Writers’ Federation, Inc. There is always another story weaving itself around in her brain trying to come out.

You can find her at http://peggylchambers.wordpress.com/ where she writes a weekly blog, like her on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/BraWars, connect with her on Twitter at @ChambersPeggy, or on Instagram at champeggy.

(Peggy here: You can read my review of Witches’ Cliff HERE.)

Here are all the other DEERBOURNE INN books available now: ( this quilt/phot0 was made my WRP sistah and Deerbourne Inn contributor, Jean M. Grant.

Book Links:

By Reservation Only      Hope’s Dream     Freedom’s Path   

Lyrical Embrace     Spirited Quest       Soul of the Storm

Lion Dancing for Love   Forever In a moment

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A visit with #Author Jean M. Grant

 


My Wild Rose sistah, Jean M. Grant, has a new book being born into the novel reading world today and she graciously accepted my invitation to visit and tell us a little about it. She decided to share a  wealth of fun facts about one of the major aspects of her book, Yellowstone National Park. Let’s give Jean the floor….

Thanks, Peggy. This is where the scientist in me (I have degrees in Biology, Marine Science, and Microbiology) comes out! Yellowstone is a scientist’s Disneyworld.

How about a few Fun Facts about Yellowstone National Park?

  1. It became the first National Park in 1872.
  2. Yellowstone is a hydrothermal wonderland with over 10,000 hydrothermal features: geysers, hot springs, mudpots, steam vents, and over 500 geysers.
  3. The park is the size of Delaware and Rhode Island combined, covering 2.2 million acres.
  4. Yellowstone is a supervolcano. Two massive magma bodies bubble beneath the park.
  5. A supervolcano refers to a volcano capable of eruption of 240 cubic miles of magma (yes, that’s miles!).
  6. The park is not all geology wonderland…there are hundreds of unique bird, fish, and mammal species in this gem in northwest Wyoming. Some signatures: bears (black and brown/Grizzly), bison, and wolves. Because of extensive programs, endangered species now flourish in the park.
  7. Over 5 million people visit the park annually.
  8. Old Faithful has been very faithful, erupting approximately every 90 minutes.
  9. Sadly, human trash and pollution has caused many of the vibrant hot pools to lose their color over the years. However, Yellowstone has created innovated programs to manage waste and human impact.
  10. Yellowstone has had 3 [2 of them being “supervolcanic”] caldera-forming eruptions over the past 3 million years (2.1 million, 1.3 million, and 640,000 years ago, respectively). Will it erupt again? Yes. Soon, like tomorrow? Not likely. The last eruption: 174,000 years ago, with 60 smaller ones since.
  11. The VEI scale measures explosivity of volcanoes and runs from 0 to 8.
  12. Be safe and read danger signs! To date over 92 people have died in the park, mostly from falling into burning hot springs, off ledges, or tempting fate with a bison.

*****Where can you learn more? I have piles of geology, volcano, and Yellowstone books at home, but the USGS and Yellowstone National Park websites are great places to get accurate facts. Happy digging, my aspiring geologists!

(Peggy here: Yellowstone is definitely a bucket list place for me to visit, and now, after reading your facts, more than ever!)

Will Rise from Ashes by Jean M. Grant

 

Living is more than mere survival.

Young widow AJ Sinclair has persevered through much heartache. Has she met her match when the Yellowstone supervolcano erupts, leaving her separated from her youngest son and her brother? Tens of thousands are dead or missing in a swath of massive destruction. She and her nine-year-old autistic son, Will, embark on a risky road trip from Maine to the epicenter to find her family. She can’t lose another loved one.

Along the way, they meet Reid Gregory, who travels his own road to perdition looking for his sister. Drawn together by AJ’s fear of driving and Reid’s military and local expertise, their journey to Colorado is fraught with the chaotic aftermath of the eruption. AJ’s anxiety and faith in humanity are put to the test as she heals her past, accepts her family’s present, and embraces uncertainty as Will and Reid show her a world she had almost forgotten.

 Excerpt:

Even from far away, I recognized the man’s plaid long-sleeved shirt and the large backpack, but now he was walking alongside a bike on his approach.

“Hey, look! It’s that guy you drove past this morning!”

I shuddered inwardly. Well, karma just bit me in the butt.

“How did he catch up with us?” Motherly instinct took over as I rose, my legs wobbly. “Will, stay there. Here, take this,” I said, handing him the tire iron.

“We already tried that, Mom.”

“Not for that, Will.”

He scratched his brown hair, which was overdue for a cut, and looked at me, confusion wrinkling his brow.

“Be my wizard, Will. It’s your sword.”

“Wizards have wands.”

“Will…”

The circuit connected. “Oh…yes, Mom, I’ll protect you!”

I smiled faintly. “Thank you, honey.” I didn’t want to explain further that it was me protecting him. I didn’t want to say that if something happened, to run and hide in the woods. Because he would run and hide. Then what? Who would come help?

I shoved my hand into my front jeans pocket to nestle my fingertips around the pocket knife I had given Harrison for our wedding anniversary. The man slowed his bicycle as he drew nearer. He gave me an understated, yet significant, nod. The nod of understanding, of kindness. I didn’t buy it.

“Hello, again,” he said.

Ouch.

You can purchase your copy here:

Amazon ~ Barnes and Noble ~ iTunes 

A little about Jean…..

Jean’s background is in science and she draws from her interests in history, nature, and her family for inspiration. She writes historical and contemporary romances and women’s fiction. She also writes articles for family-oriented travel magazines. When she’s not writing or chasing children, she enjoys tending to her flower gardens, hiking, and doing just about anything in the outdoors.

You can connect with, and follow Jean, here…

Website ~ Twitter ~ Facebook ~ Goodreads ~ Bookbub ~ Amazon Author Page ~ The Wild Rose Press

Feel free to follow me on my BLOG TOUR, April 18-June 6. Don’t forget to enter the giveaway!

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