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It’s my turn….

…over on the Romance Gems Blog. I’ve got an extra blog piece this month about how the idea for DEARLY BELOVED and the entire Match Made in Heaven came about.

Read all about it here: When fiction mimics reality

And here’s an early present from Amazon – the ebook is on sale for a limited time for just 99 cents. The sale was supposed to start tomorrow, but AMAZON jumped the gun a day early, so if you’ve been waiting to buy it, get it today! Here’s the link:
DEARLY BELOVED

Tomorrow the sale will include iTunes and Nook, if those are your ereaders of choice.

TTFY ~ Peg

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#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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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 5.21.19

So the premise of this Tuesday blog feature was to give you a little insight and previews into books that are coming out, or that I’m writing right now. Today, we’ve got the second category. This is from the second book in my dot com girls series from Limitless. It’s not contracted yet, but hope springs eternal in my house and in my mind! This is the story of Eleanor “Nell” Newbery, a once-upon-a-time heiress, who, through her father’s greed ( think Bernie Madoff) has  tumbled from rich girl to poor. Because of her strong will and business acumen, though, she’s made a success of her moving  and handyman company, Helpful Hunks. Nell’s not a trusting kind of girl – she’s been burned too many times by men who want to date her so they can sell their stories to tabloids. But when she meets Econ professor Charles Churchill at a lecture, for once she decides to toss her distrustful issues aside.

Here’s a little taste – it’s raw so please don’t judge any mistakes yet! This is their first meet, told in Nell’s POV.

A lifetime of innate clumsiness has prevented me from ever wearing anything taller than a tiny kitten heel. A higher heel spelled complications in situations that involved doing anything with my feet and legs in tandem – such as walking. It’s been said by my friends that I can trip standing still. They’re not exaggerating, so today I’d donned a pair of well worn and much loved ballet flats just as a precaution against any movement mishaps. The last thing I wanted to do was fall while I was lecturing. Not in this age of camera phones where my ungainliness could be uploaded and Instagrammed to the world in a matter of seconds.

I should have added walking up stairs to that precaution because three steps away from the second floor landing I slid, stumbled, and slipped. Honesty, who but me could fall up the stairs?

Flailing, my brief case tumbled down behind me and the papers I’d been holding flew around me like confetti in the wind when I dropped them in order to put my arms out and brace myself against face-planting into the marble.

“Shit. Shit. Shit.” I landed with my palms splayed flat on the stair. The slap of my flesh meeting the hard step reverberated around me, and my forearms trembled with the force of the hit. My left shin slammed against the stair tread, the sharp edge of it connecting right under my rounded kneecap. One of my consignment store-bought Kate Spades slid off and plummeted downward, chasing after my briefcase.

For a moment I stood stone still, shocked at the loudness of my hit in the stairwell and the immediate pain filling my hands and knee.

I said a silent prayer of thanks that no one had been a witness to my fall and then took the prayer back when a voice drifted up from below me.

Good Lord. Are you okay?”

Why do people ask such a stupid question? Obviously, I wasn’t. I’d just fallen flat on my face, my papers were strewn about me as if they’d exploded out of a canon and, because this was me of the lousy luck we were talking about, my laptop was probably damaged beyond repair.

Just as I was about to toss the questioner a snarky retort, I felt a hand wind around one of upper arms and haul me up as if I weighed nothing more than a wisp of air.

My dress had three quarter sleeves but even through the cotton the warmth that oozed from the hand heated my skin as if touching it bare.

“Can you stand?” the voice holding me asked.

While the hand oozed with warmth, the voice flowed in a sultry, sensual tone that shot straight to my insides and heated all the parts of me that had been experiencing an arctic frost of late.

Well, a lot more than of late. More like the past decade.

Deep toned and delicately accented like Prince Harry’s, I’d bet cash-money it was English to the core.

“I think so.” With my free hand on the rail, I righted and gingerly placed my unshod foot flat on the stair tread. My knee ached, but I could tell nothing was broken. I was going to be sore tomorrow, though, for sure. And bruised without a doubt. My fair skin always looks like I’ve been in a ten-round prize fight whenever I bang against something.

I lifted my gaze to tell he-of-the-soulful-voice I was okay and the words stuck in the back of my throat.

Concern wrinkled a high brow and the skin at the corners of his eyes. And, goodness, what eyes. As deep and blue as a ripe blueberry on the vine begging to be picked. I’d never seen that color on an actual human before and it was beyond striking. Thick, blond hair tinged with gray at the temples was cut short along the nape. My gaze slid from his gorgeous eyes down to cheeks carved from alabaster and dusted with a salt and pepper stubble that ran down the length of his jaw. When they flitted to his mouth the air stuck in my throat finally broke free in a gasp that echoed around us. Full and luscious, smooth skinned and deep blush in color, they were the most perfect lips imaginable. For a hot second the ache in my hands and knee disappeared to form a totally different kind of ache in my core.

I blinked, shuddered, and teetered a bit when I recognized the alien sensation swimming within me as awareness.

Sexual awareness.

His beautiful lips tugged down at the corners as he stared at me, worry in those compelling eyes. His hand tightened on my arm.

“Steady,” he said in that silky voice.

“I-I’m okay. Really.” I tired to move out of his hold but he wasn’t having it.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. Thanks. I’m fine. Well,” I rolled my eyes as he continued to peer at me, “I’m a little banged up and embarrassed, but fine. Really. I fall all the time. Everywhere.”

Geez, Eleanor, shut up, my internal snark instructed.

Mr. Sexy didn’t look all that convinced, but he did let go of my arm.

“It’s true. And now I’m embarrassed and late.” I bent to retrieve the notes that had gone helter-skelter when I stumbled. I didn’t relish going back down the steps to get my briefcase, but I was saved from having to when he did the honors.

I slung the strap over my shoulder after taking it from him. Then he gave me my shoe. I held onto the rail while I slipped it back on.

“Thank you.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

I nodded. “Battered and bruised but I’ll live. Thanks again, but I’ve gotta get going.”

“Where are you heading?”

I blinked, wondering why he asked.

“Room 265. It’s supposed to be right up these stairs.”

He gave me a quick head bob. “It is. Come on, I’ll show you.”

“Oh, no, really. That’s okay. I can find my way. You’ve done enough. I don’t want to make you late for wherever”—I flapped my free hand in the air—“you need to be.”

Those amazing lips twitched at the corners turning his intriguing face into a whole new level of handsome.

“I happen to be going in the same direction, so no problem.”

He held a hand out to indicate we should move up the remaining stairs.

With my papers bundled in one hand, my shoe back in place and my briefcase, thankfully, not emitting sounds of my laptop jiggling in a thousand pieces, I held onto the rail with the other and walked – slowly and cautiously – up the remaining steps while he kept an eye on my progress.

My chaperone, because that’s what he was at this point, kept his stride coupled with mine. At the top of the landing he pulled the corridor door open, held it, and nodded for me to precede him.

It was easy to find my scheduled room because outside it on the wall was a scotch-taped notice indicating my name, the course I was teaching, and the time the class started, which, after a quick glance at my watch, was right now.

“This is me,” I said, placing what I hoped was a normal smile on my face and not a grimace. “Thank you again for your help.”

His gaze shot from the paper on the wall to my face. With his head tilted just a bit to the side, the look he gave me was indecipherable. I couldn’t tell if he was silently laughing at the title of my class, me, or if he was wondering if someone who was as clumsy as I was had personal knowledge and experience with shattering ceilings euphemistic or otherwise.

“You’re welcome, Ms. Newbery.” He pronounced my name as if the second e was missing, the b and the r rolling off his tongue together, and not berry the way people usually did. I have to admit, I liked this pronunciation way better. It sounded…classier, somehow. “Have a good class. And you might want to ice that knee later on just as a precaution.”

With that he nodded again, turned, and then walked down the long hallway away from me.

The back of him was as interesting as the front. Broad, straight shoulders encased in a sport’s coat that dropped effortlessly from shoulder to hip; endlessly long legs wrapped in fitted trousers. He held himself in a manner my mother would have approved of: erect, like a solider but graceful, like a dancer. I could actually picture him in both a uniform holding a rifle and a tuxedo holding…me.

Holy crap.

I stayed in my spot until he opened a door at the end of the corridor and then disappeared inside it without ever glancing back at me.

With a shake of my head to clear it of the wacky thoughts, I opened my own classroom door and entered into what I hoped wouldn’t prove to be one of the nine circles of Hell.

So – that’s it for now. Like I said, this is raw – no editing yet, so don’t be judgey( Hee hee).

If you’re looking for me when I’m not writing new stuff, here’s where I’ll be:Tweet Me//Read Me// Visit Me//Picture Me//Pin Me//Friend Me// Triber// BookMe // Monkey me //Watch me

and please don’t forget I’m participating in the BOOKSWEEPS Sweet and Mild Contemporary Romance Contest until May 29. Enter Here for a chance to win great prizes.

Until next time ~ Peg.

 

 

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Food poisoning, a busted wing, and 3 deaths…oh my!

I was out of social media touch this past Tuesday because I had a horrible case of food poisoning. Don’t know what I ate, but I’m allergic to sososo many food items to begin with it could have been anything! I try to avoid the stuff I know I’m allergic to, so I don’t think it was something I ate by mistake, more that it was something I ate that was contaminated.

That thought alone sends shivers down my spine!

Thankfully, I’ve got a concierge doctor on call 24 hrs a day ( I call him Hubman!) and he was able to treat the rampant and complete dehydration I suffered from this bug/allergy/poisoning, take your pick. Within 24 hours I was back to my normal ( if you can call me normal) state.

So, while I was writhing in agony from diarrhea and simultaneous vomiting ( TMI?) I also got the MRI results from last weeks’ test. Torn rotator cuff.

Yeah, I know. When it rains, it friggin’ floods.

I go back to the doc next week for an eval and to see what we’re – and by that I mean him – is going to do about the tear. Surgery is the top option. Those of you who know what these initials mean will understand how I feel right now: FML

Andddddd beacause bad news always come in threes, the world said goodbye to 3 icons in the entertainment filed the same day I was down for the count.

Tim Conway, Peggy Lipton, Doris Day.

Each of these 3 amazing people made their mark in the world in different ways and each of them will be missed. I adored all of them for varying reasons, and their hordes of fans have all paid perfect homage to them. My favorite remembrance meme of the day, though, was this one:.

RIP Tim, Peggy, Doris. You brought us decades of love, laughter, and entertainment.

~Peg

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#Long&ShortReviews #wednesdaybloggingchallenge 5.15.19

Today’s blogging prompt from Long and Short Reviews couldn’t be any more perfect for me if they’d ask me to come up with a topic all by myself! What are your Favorite TV shows and why, is what we’ll discuss today.

Let me get this out of the way right now: I don’t watch  a lot of commercial television. I’m not a GoT fanatic, have never seen This is Us, never checked into Gray’s Anatomy hospital and couldn’t possibly care less about any Gotham villains.

I do happen to have a great love of old tv shows from the 50s-80s. plus anyone who knows me knows I love reality television and BRAVO

So, It was a big field to pull from, but I figured I’d start out with the new stuff and then give an overview of the old. In no real order, here are my favs:

The Real Housewives of Beverly Hill, NY, and New Jersey. Why, you ask, would I want to waste an hour each week with women who appear as vapid, obnoxious, and stupid as these women you ask? The answer’s simple: for all their success, money, and fame, there lives really do suck, which makes my humdrum, boring life seem sosososo much better. Is that petty? If so, oh well.

  

The Blacklist, simply because of James Spader. I mean, come on! JAMES SPADER!

Killing Eve. My new addiction. This show is crafted and written so perfectly, I swear a forensic psychologist wrote it! The inner workings of the minds of Villanelle and Eve are labyrynths of chaos, intelligence, and evil. This show is so much fun to watch!

NCIS, simply  because of Mark Harmon. At 60+ he’s still my vote for sexiest man alive ( People magazine agrees!)

Now for the oldies.

Secret Agent Man. The only show I know of that ever got made because of a theme song. Cool, sophisticated, and sleek, this show was only on for a year or so, but it was a goodie. And SAM is my favorite song of all time.

The Man from U.N.C.L.E. Ilya Kuriakian, aka David McCallum, was such a hottie when I was 8 years old! He still is at 70+ ( See NCIS!)

I Love Lucy. Because…Lucy. First, last and always, Lucy!

 

So, those are just some of my favs. Let’s see what some other authors in this challenge like to watch: L&SR

 

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#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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Filed under A Match Made in Heaven, Characters, Contemporary Romance, Family Saga, Foodie, Romance, Romance Books, Strong Women, WIld Rose Press AUthor

#TuesdayTeaser Dirty Damsels

Since I’ve got a library of new books coming out in the next few months-to-a- year, I thought I’d start a little sumthin’ sumthin’ on the blog called  TUESDAY TEASER as a way to get everyone interested in what’s coming down the book pike for me.

Why TUESDAY TEASER? Simple answer: I lovelovelove alliteration!

I don’t have my cover from the publisher to share yet, but here’s a little bit from my July 2, 2019 release of DIRTY DAMSELS from Limitless Publications:

When the bridal party fanned out around the altar, the organist signaled a music change, and the entire congregation stood as a unit. I turned to get a view of the bride and her father as the interior doors opened.

None of the drama that’d filled Carrie Ann’s world a few hours ago could be detected on her beautifully made-up, heart shaped face. Luminous blonde hair was coiffed in a waterfall of curls cascading down her neck and shoulders, and a tiara, its faux diamonds twinkling as the sunlight filtered through the stained glass windows, sat atop her head.

The bridal gown designer’s creation of the sexiest dress I’d ever seen drifted down Carrie Ann’s delicate shoulders. The dress was almost completely see-through, strategic silk swatches placed in front of cut-out panels in swirls and circular designs lined with illusion material. At first glance, all I saw were the intricate, etched shapes. Closer inspection and I realized there was more of Carrie Ann on display than previously thought. The neckline was a delicate thread of lace baring her down to below her bellybutton. Again, illusion material gave the semblance of propriety. The deep neckline accentuated her beautiful, full breasts and showed more cleavage than should be seen in a house of God. I could stuff my bra with a box of Kleenex and still not achieve this girl’s natural endowments. The dropped waist was cinched tight, and I wondered how the poor thing was ever going to be able to sit. Or manage to pee. The material hugged her hips, thighs, even the backs of her knees all the way to the floor. One full breath, or pig-in-a-blanket too many at the cocktail party, and this dress was in serious danger of exploding off her. She walked, on the arm of her father, slowly up the aisle, and I knew it wasn’t because she was trying to ensure everyone got a perfect view of her dress. A sloth in a coma moved faster than this gown allowed the bride to.

A few pews in front of me, Carrie Ann’s mother sniffed and dabbed her eyes with a pink handkerchief. When dad and bride sauntered by me, I saw the back of the gown for the first time and gasped. Lined with the same illusion material, it dropped down to the gentle rise of the bride’s butt cheeks. Truly. You could see the top of the crack of her ass in full glory. But it was a superb ass, I will admit, something mine will never be. Full, tight, and round, the dress hugged every God-given inch of it.

At the altar, Casey took Carrie Ann’s hand, leaned in, and whispered something. She grinned from ear to ear. The guests sat and the ceremony began.

Peggy here – this is what I imagined when I came up with Carrie Ann’s gown:

You can see more images from what I “see” in the book on my Pinterest Board DIRTY DAMSELS

The idea for Dirty Damsels came to me when this tagline popped into my brain one, random, Sunday: What would happen if Cynderella had a one night stand with a man named Prince?
Heehee.

Hope you’re intrigued!

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#Audiobooks part 2

Today is my turn on the Romance Gems blog and I’m continuing my discussing of audiobooks. Click here to read along: ROMANCE GEMS

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#L&SR #WednesdayBloggingChallenge 4.24.19 The Books that Twitter sold me on!

Today’s prompt is an interesting one: Books I’ve discovered on Social media.

I follow many authors on Social Media through Twitter, Book Bub and their facebook pages, so I’ve gotten a ton of new authors to read because of my media engagement ( or maybe it’s an obsession!) These are my two favorites:

I found LAUREN LAYNE on Instagram one day as I was scrolling through my feed, bought the book she was spotlighting, TO HAVE AND HOLD

and then bought her entire back list. She is now a one-click for me for every preorder!

I discovered CATHERINE BYBEE at a conference about, of all things, TWITTER For Authors!!! I loved everything she had to say about author engagement on SM and then she, too, became a one click author for me after reading WIFE BY WEDNESDAY

Let’s see if any of the other authors in this blog challenge have found some new favs: L&SR

And speaking of social media engagement, you can follow me here and decide if I become one of your one-click authors!!!

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

and the link to my recent interview on NewHampshirePublicRadio

And I can’t forget the OKRWA 2018 Award video

Ubertalented Joan Reeve made this video trailer for me for HOPE’s DREAM:

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