Tag Archives: #authorpromo #bookpromo

Madonna San Valentino visits with Amber Daulton

Madonna and I are over on Amber Daulton’s blog today for an in-depth character interview. Please join us and leave Donna (and me!) some love!

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A Surprise #RomanceGems blog post today….


So you all know I write a monthly blog column/post for THE ROMANCE GEMS blog. It’s the 27th of every month and the topics vary. Today, though, I’ve got an extra post and there’s a little gift/giveaway attached to it. Hop on over and check it out — and make sure you leave me a comment so I can enter your name in my little contest.  THE ROMANCE GEMS

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FROZEN CRIMES by multi-published author CHRYS FEY

Multipublished, talented author CHRYS FEY joins me today to talk about Christmas music, holiday parties, and her newest book  FROZEN CRIMES, book 5 in the Disaster Crimes series.

Here’s Chrys…

I love Christmas music! With Frozen Crimes taking place during the winter season, I was able to write about a Christmas party Beth and Donovan have at their house. I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to mention a couple of my favorite songs, such as “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas” by The Carpenters and “Where Are You Christmas?” by Faith Hill.

During one specific scene, I had to find a fun song with a beat that could get pregnant Beth and her sexy husband Donovan moving and dancing together. I didn’t want to use “Rockin Around the Christmas Tree,” because, well, I don’t like that song. (Sorry.) I was listening to my Christmas playlist on Spotify when “All I Want for Christmas is You” by Mariah Carey came on. I started to bopped around in my chair while writing about the Christmas party. I was having fun and knew right away that song was the answer. Picturing my characters dancing to that number and having fun made me smile.

EXCERPT # 1

“All I Want for Christmas Is You” came on next. When the beat picked up, Donovan rocked back and forth to it. Beth laughed. This wasn’t exactly a great song to dance to in someone’s arms, with its fast tempo, but Donovan had some moves, and her belly didn’t even deter him. She bopped to the music, moving her shoulders, lifting her hands into the air, and shook her hips back and forth. Laughter bubbled out of her mouth.

Mariah Carey, the diva herself, and Donovan’s dance moves were the two things that could get Beth out of her funk. The lyrics were perfect, too. All she wanted for Christmas was Donovan. Him and only him. This Christmas and every Christmas after it. Forever. And ever.

EXCERPT #2:

Later that evening, after snacking on delicious hors d’oeuvres and chatting with their guests, Beth went looking for a free seat to take a load off. Literally. She rubbed her belly. Her feet were killing her, even barefoot. Plus, another one of her all-time favorite songs was on—“Where Are You, Christmas?” by Faith Hill—and she wanted to be able to lip-sync and act it out like a fool where no one would be able to see her. She headed for the dining room, where not many people had been all evening, planning to plop down in one of the chairs around the table and fake belt out this epic song.

Songs Mentioned in Frozen Crimes:

  1. “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas” by The Carpenters
  2. “All I Want for Christmas is You” by Mariah Carey
  3. “I’ll Be Home for Christmas” by Michael Bublé
  4. “Where Are You, Christmas?” by Faith Hill

Other Christmas Songs I Listened to while Writing Frozen Crimes:

  1. “Carol of the Bells” by August Burns Red
  2. “Happy Xmas (War is Over)” by John Lennon
  3. “Last Christmas” by Wham!
  4. “Do You Hear What I Hear” by Carrie Underwood
  5. “Carol of the Bells” by Trans-Siberian Orchestra
  6. “Carol of the Bells” by Mannheim Steamrollers

A QUESTION FROM CHRYS: What are your favorite Christmas songs?

FROZEN CRIMES…..

When disasters strike around every corner, is it possible to have a happily-ever-after?

 

 

BLURB: Beth and Donovan are expecting their first child. Life couldn’t get any better…until a stalker makes his presence known. This person sends disturbing messages and unsettling items, but it isn’t long before his menacing goes too far.

Hoping for a peaceful Christmas, Donovan takes Beth to Michigan. Days into their trip, a winter storm named Nemesis moves in with the goal of burying the state. Snowdrifts surround their house, and the temperature drops below freezing.

Except, the storm isn’t the only nemesis they must face. Everyone’s lives are at stake—especially that of their unborn child. Will they survive, or will they become a frozen crime?

GET YOUR COPY HERE: Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iTunes

***HUGE DISASTER CRIMES GIVEAWAY*** 

 

 

Prizes: 4 eBooks (Disaster Crimes 1-4: Hurricane Crimes, Seismic Crimes, Tsunami Crimes, Flaming Crimes) + Girl Boss Magnets (4), Inflatable Cup Holder (1), Adventure Fuel To-Go Cups (2), Anchor Fashion Scarf (1), Mermaid Nail Clippers (2), Citrus and Sea Salt Scented Candle (1), Snowflake Handmade Bookmark (1), Insulated Cooler Bag (1)

Eligibility: International

Number of Winners: One

Giveaway Ends: October 30, 2020 12:00am Eastern Standard Time

LINK: http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/76132e0221/?

***FREE EXCLUSIVE EBOOK***

 

 

To get the exclusive prequel to the Disaster Crimes series, sign up for Chrys’ newsletter. By signing up, you agree to receive Chrys Fey’s newsletter. After you confirm subscription, you will receive an email (so check your inbox and spam folder) with directions on where to snag your eBook copy of THE CRIME BEFORE THE STORM.

Click here to sign up and get The Crime Before the Storm FREE!

A little about Chrys…

Chrys Fey is author of the Disaster Crimes Series, a unique concept that blends disasters, crimes, and romance. She runs the Insecure Writer’s Support Group Book Club on Goodreads and edits for Dancing Lemur Press. https://www.chrysfey.com

You can follow Chrys here…

Website / Blog / Goodreads / Facebook / Twitter / Amazon

 

 

 

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Upcoming Facebook Event for MISTLETOE, MOBSTERS, & MOZZARELLA release day!

I’m nervous and excited at the same time!!! On October 14, not only does my new San Valentino Holiday RomCom MISTLETOE, MOBSTERS, & MOZZARELLA release into the book reading world, I’m also having an entire day Facebook Party/event to celebrate it. This is a first for me and I am wicked angsty! Hee hee

I’ve been a guest at many a FB event, but never the hostess and driving force. It’s not easy, either. There’s a bunch of stuff involved behind the scenes but I think I’m getting it all done correctly. I guess we’ll see on the day of the event, won’t we?

I have a wonderful array of author friends joining me, everyone from my WRP sistahs to my NHRWA sisters! All genres of romance will be on display, too, which is great. Like a really fabulous dinner party, it pays to have an eclectic group in attendance.

Here’s the schedule of my lovely friends who are helping me celebrate:

And here’s the link to the event: MMM Release Day Party

I hope you can make it. I know it’s going to be fun-filled day, despite my nerves.

You can pre-order your copy of Mistletoe, Mobsters, & Mozzarella  now, here: MMM

And there’s currently a Goodreads Giveaway you can enter for the book, here: GOODREADS GIVEAWAY

Until next time, peeps ~ Peg

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#goddessfishtour Day #3

The tour continues! Today I’m over on ANDI’S BOOK REVIEWS.

Please take a minute and join me, read an excerpt from the book, and make a comment so you can be entered to win at the rafflecopter! You gotta be in it to win it!

Thanks, oodles!

 

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Author Joanne Guidoccio and NO MORE SECRETS

It is ALWAYS such a pleasure for me to host my guest today. Amazeballs writer JOANNE GUIDOCCIO has been a writer-friend for almost 5 years – ever since she hosted me on her own blog when my very first book released. Joanne is a one-click author for me because her books take me away from the world for hours of reading pleasure, and today, she’s here, talking about her newest release NO MORE SECRETS.

If I wasn’t already an avid reader of her work, I would become one just based on the blurb for this book, alone.

Here…come visit with Joanne ~

Inspired by Two Francescas

Twenty-five years ago, I sat with eyes glued to the big screen as Meryl Streep assumed the role of Francesca Johnson, an Italian war bride, in the romantic drama, The Bridges of Madison County. Based on the best-selling novel by Robert James Waller, the film focuses on a four-day love affair between two middle-aged lovers, Francesca and Robert Kincaid, a National Geographic photojournalist brilliantly played by Clint Eastwood.

Having spent years in a passionless marriage, Francesca falls deeply in love with Robert and contemplates leaving her loyal husband and teenage children. Here’s a moving excerpt that captures Francesca’s dilemma:

Francesca: Robert, please. You don’t understand, no one does. When a woman makes the choice to marry, to have children; in one way her life begins but in another way it stops. You build a life of details. You become a mother, a wife and you stop and stay steady so that your children can move. And when they leave, they take your life of details with them. And then you’re expected to move again only you don’t remember what moves you because no one has asked in so long. Not even yourself. You never in your life think that love like this can happen to you.

Robert: But now that you have it…

Francesca: I want to keep it forever. I want to love you the way I do now the rest of my life. Don’t you understand…we’ll lose it if we leave. I can’t make an entire life disappear to start a new one. All I can do is try to hold onto both. Help me. Help me not lose loving you.

Without giving too much away, I’ll just say that I needed tissues for the last third of the movie.

One year later (1996), I watched the movie on VHS with my mother, another Francesca. She was also moved by the storyline and provided her own perspective on the affair.

Five years younger than Francesca Johnson, Mama also left Italy during those post-War World II years. Mama settled in the Italian section of Sudbury (Canada), while Francesca Johnson ended up in the lush countryside of Iowa. I gather from the book and film she was the only Italian in that town.

As Mama’s thoughts traveled back to the late 1950s and early 1960s, her eyes glistened with tears. She shared her own stories and those of friends and relatives who had emigrated to Canada and the United States. As I listened, I started to imagine writing a novel about an Italian woman’s immigrant experience.

I was still teaching at the time, but I managed to come up with a very rough outline of the storyline. And then, I put it aside when the details of my own life became more challenging.

While cleaning out my files in 2018, I discovered the outline. I revamped the storyline, adding three more POVs, a psychic companion, and a more contemporary setting.

Take a look at No More Secrets

 

 Blurb

Angelica Delfino takes a special interest in the lives of her three nieces, whom she affectionately calls the daughters of her heart. Sensing that each woman is harboring a troubling, possibly even toxic secret, Angelica decides to share her secrets—secrets she had planned to take to the grave. Spellbound, the nieces listen as Angelica travels back six decades to reveal an incredulous tale of forbidden love, tragic loss, and reinvention. It is the classic immigrant story upended: an Italian widow’s transformative journey amid the most unlikely of circumstances.

Inspired by Angelica’s example, the younger women share their “First World” problems and, in the process, set themselves free.

But one heartbreaking secret remains untold…

Excerpt

Angelica smiled at her nieces. “You’re probably wondering why I’ve summoned you here in the middle of winter. I didn’t want to wait, in case…”

The three women exchanged alarmed glances.

“Ma said you were better,” Velia said.

“Did something happen this week?” Nora asked.

“I have been given a reprieve,” Angelica said. “I wanted to talk with each of you while I was at my strongest.”

An awkward silence followed.

Angelica sighed. It was going to be more challenging than she thought. She had hoped for more signs of openness. Right now, the three of them had reverted to wariness. “I’m hoping we can all share without judgment. As the eldest, I will start, but before I do so, I’d like all your assurances that you will follow suit. I don’t want to be the only one baring my soul.”

Each niece lowered her head, avoiding contact with Angelica and each other.

“Sharing is caring,” Angelica said in a sing-song voice.

Each woman smiled in spite of herself. But still, no promises were made.

“All right then,” Angelica said as a note of exasperation crept into her voice. “Let’s make a deal. If I succeed in shocking you, then you have to share.”

The younger women exchanged glances and smiles.

“Why now?” Nora asked. “Aren’t you afraid we’ll share your innermost secrets with our mothers, who will, in turn, broadcast them across Canada and Italy?”

Angelica laughed wickedly. “Go ahead, but do keep in mind that both of them have weak hearts.”

“I’ll share,” Teresa said in a loud voice that startled everyone.

“Me, too,” Velia and Nora added.

 

Book Trailer

 

Buy Links

Amazon US // Amazon Canada // Amazon UK// Amazon Australia

 

A little about Joanne…

A member of Crime Writers of Canada, Sisters in Crime, and Women’s Fiction Writers Association, Joanne Guidoccio writes cozy mysteries, paranormal romances, and inspirational literature from her home base of Guelph, Ontario.  

 

You can connect with Joanne, here: 

Website:  // Twitter: //    Facebook:  // Pinterest:  // Goodreads:  // LinkedIn:  // Amazon:

 

Joanne Guidoccio will be awarding a $10 Amazon gift card to a randomly drawn winner via Rafflecopter. Find out more here:  Rafflecopter

Again, it was such a pleasure to host Joanne today. Look for her books and read them – you won’t be disappointed!!!

Until next time, peeps ~ Peg

 

 

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#Author Jennifer Wilck presents WHISPERS IN WASHINGTON….

I love when my author/writer friends come to visit me here on this blog, and today is no exception!!! One of my talented sistahs, Jennifer Wilck,  has a new  book out – her very first indie release!!! – and she graciously agreed to come talk about it here with us all today!!!

So, without any more of me talking, I’m gonna give the virtual mic to Jenn….

Thanks so much, Peggy, for allowing me to visit with your readers today. I’m so happy to be here and to talk about why I decided to go the indie route.

In this particular case, I was actually asked to join a group of writers who were putting together a multi-author series, called Ticket to True Love. JB Schroeder, a fellow New Jersey Romance Writers author, was looking to make her group of authors a little more diverse, and knew I write Jewish romance. So she contacted me to see if I’d be interested.

I was flattered for many reasons. First of all, I’ve written four contemporary romances with Jewish characters, and it’s always nice for an author to be “known” by her peers—and readers—for something. Writing Jewish characters is something that’s near and dear to my heart—I truly believe diversity, in whatever way it is expressed, adds flavor and texture to romance.

Second of all, the other authors who are part of this series are very talented, and for them to consider me made my day. Authors like Savannah Kade, Shirley Hailstock, Terry Osburn, and Julie Strauss, just to name a few. I mean, I’ve READ their books and admired the way they told their stories. And now I’m writing with them!

The premise for the series also interested me. The series has a legend that every book must refer to somewhere in the story—that of a magical water spring that caused a couple to fall in love. Each author must incorporate that magical water somewhere in their book. For my book, Whispers in Washington, I have the heroine and her mother visit the town where the spring is located. In fact, the heroine’s mom wants her to drink the water and my heroine refuses—she’s been burned by love once and is in no hurry to repeat the experience.

Additionally, each story in the series must reference a “ticket” in some way. Mine uses parking tickets. My heroine gets a parking ticket at her new apartment complex, and my hero gives her his spot until she can fix the issue. Later on, there are more parking tickets that come into play as well.

I loved the idea of a few common threads tying all the books together, yet allowing enough creativity that no book is the same.

And JB is the designer of all our covers, as well, so they all look like they’re part of the set.

Finally, we all market for each other, so I get the benefit of other authors’ experience, as well as providing them with my own.

Now do you see why I jumped at the chance to participate?

WHISPERS IN WASHINGTON 

Naomi’s life has been destroyed

When Naomi Adelman’s crooked politician husband was arrested, her life, and that of her daughters, was destroyed. Divorced and rebuilding her life, Naomi is wiser, stronger, and determined not to let anyone hurt her or her family again. Her new life doesn’t include falling for her charming and good-looking neighbor.Max bet everything and lost…

 Max Bruder bet his entire career on the Adelman story and lost everything. So, he figures that karma has smiled down on him when Naomi moves in next door. This is his chance to revitalize his career. Except the closer he gets to her, the deeper he falls for her. And soon, the line between interview subject and lover blurs.

If they fall for each other, they may jeopardize their chance at a future. 

Excerpt:

Naomi wanted to finish, but she was full, and with reluctance, she pushed her plate away. “That was amazing. You can order for me anytime.”

A shard of interest sparked in Max’s eyes and he leaned forward. “Does this mean you’ll go to dinner with me again?” His voice beguiled her, his interest in her clear.

Her stomach fluttered. Warning lights flickered in her brain, but something else whispered, “’go for it.” She paused. “I will.”

He smiled, his look of satisfaction somehow attractive, instead of arrogant. She liked confident men, and Max oozed confidence. Except he carried confidence with ease. His broad shoulders emphasized good posture, rather than a puffed-out chest. Whoa, I might have had too much to drink. She looked at the wine bottle. Had she drunk three or four glasses? She couldn’t remember. Her neck heated with the same glow she felt after drinking. Maybe she should slow down.

What she did know was Max was sexy, and she liked the attraction sparking between them. After such a long time of feeling like a prop, and a duped one at that, it was nice to have a man look at her like she was worth something.

He rose, and she realized he’d paid the bill while she sat lost in her thoughts. He held out a hand to her and she took it. His grasp was firm, and her skin prickled beneath his touch. Was this what her daughters felt when they met a new guy? God, it had been ages since she’d done this. Rising, she met his gaze. His brown eyes were full of life—there was depth there, kindness, and inter‐ est. Depending on the light, the color changed from gold to walnut and shades in between. He smelled spicy and clean.

She squeezed his hand, and he kept her palm in his as he led her out of the restaurant. They stood in the doorway, her body only inches away from his, heat zinging between them, as they walked the few blocks to their apartment building. He still didn’t let go of her. She concentrated on the tensile strength of his fingers wrapped around hers, liking his strength and comfort.

He didn’t lead her around or pull her in a particular direction. Their hands together joined them. It felt natural. Holding hands with Malcolm always made her feel like a prop, as if he didn’t want a real connection.

Naomi didn’t want to think about Malcolm now, and she shook her head.

“Problem?” Max asked. They’d stopped in front of their building.

She turned so fast, her hair caught on the stubble at his jaw. “No.” She brushed the hair away from his cheek, the slight textured stubble rubbing against her palm and sending heat straight to her belly. His lips parted, and he leaned forward.

Would he kiss her? Did she want him to? She shouldn’t, she barely knew him, but her skin tingled, her breasts tightened and her breath came in short gasps.

He didn’t kiss her. Instead, he reached his free hand out and stroked the side of her head, smoothing her hair in place. “Yes,” he whispered.

She frowned, and tried to hide her disappointment. “Yes, what?”

“Your hair is as silky as I wondered.” He let his hand glide down her neck to her shoulder, and the contact brought out goose bumps. “Are you cold?” he asked.

She didn’t know how to answer. Was it okay for her to say, “no, I’m attracted to you?” Or should she say “yes”?

As if he understood her dilemma, he let go of her hand, slid his arm behind her shoulders, and drew her into the warmth of his body.

The man was a furnace and she wanted to groan in pleasure. They stood toe to toe, his hand running up and down her spine, her breasts pressed against his hard chest. Would he kiss her? Should she kiss him? Her brain short circuited and desire flooded through her. All she could do was focus on the warmth flooding her, the soothing sound of his humming something she couldn’t quite catch, and the zings of desire running throughout her body.

Too soon, Max pulled back. The cool evening air did little to stop the yearning for the man. Once again, he took her hand, and in silence, he led her into the elevator, down their hallway to where their front doors met. Her legs wobbled, and she leaned against the wall. The last thing she wanted to do was fall at this man’s feet.

“I liked getting to know you better,” Max whispered, leaning his free hand against the wall next to her head.

She was boxed in between the wall and Max, in her own little cocoon. He’d said there were limits to how far a reporter should go. For some reason, she felt safe. She trusted him not to take advantage of her. Her body warmed at his proximity. His eyes were dark—more mahogany than walnut, his forehead touched hers, and his breath was warm and minty. Her mind drifted to when exactly he’d taken a breath mint, and why, and should she. She opened her mouth to tell him how much she’d enjoyed it too, and to ask for a mint, but he didn’t let her utter any words.

Instead, he brought his mouth to hers and kissed her. Warm, commanding, yet soft, lips claimed her own. Her knees buckled and she grabbed his biceps, loving the solid feel of him beneath her fingers. Max wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. He exuded strength and she felt more protected than she could remember. His body was hard, his arousal pressing against her, but he didn’t force her or move fast. Instead, he moved with delicious slowness, as if he memorized everything about her lips and mouth. She wanted more. More kissing, more touching, more Max. She whimpered as she pressed against him and his lips stretched into a smile, before he sucked on her tongue and the last of her coherent thoughts fizzled.

Just as she was about to rip his jacket off and begin to unbutton his shirt, he pulled away.

“Goodnight.” His breathing was harsh, his words rough, his pupils wide and dark. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She covered her mouth with her hand. She could taste him. He pushed away from the wall and entered his apartment, the jingle of his keys echoing throughout the hall.

Get your copy of  here : 

Amazon: // Barnes & Noble: // iBooks: // Kobo:

A little about Jennifer Wilck….

Jennifer started telling herself stories as a little girl when she couldn’t fall asleep at night. Pretty soon, her head was filled with these stories and the characters that populated them. Even as an adult, she thinks about the characters and stories at night before she falls asleep or walking the dog. Eventually, she started writing them down. Her favorite stories to write are those with smart, sassy, independent heroines; handsome, strong and slightly vulnerable heroes; and her stories always end with happily ever after.

In the real world, she’s the mother of two amazing daughters and wife of one of the smartest men she knows. She believes humor is the only way to get through the day and does not believe in sharing her chocolate.

She writes contemporary romance, many of which feature Jewish characters in non-religious settings (#ownvoices). She’s published with The Wild Rose Press and all her books are available through Amazon and Barnes & Noble.

You can connect with Jennifer here:

Website: // Facebook: // Newsletter: // Twitter: // Instagram: // BookBub:

Peggy here: OMGosh – doesn’t this book sound delicious??!! Thank you, Jenn, for stopping by today and telling us all about the fabulous new project!!! Happy Sales.

Until next time, peeps ~ Peg

 

 

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#TeaserThursday

Summer isn’t quite over YET, so here’s a little something from my Summer Romance VANILLA WITH A TWIST, one of the One Scoop or Two novellas that dropped this summer from the Wild Rose Press.

Today, an intro to Tandy’s favorite ice cream flavor….

Watching him work was both hypnotic and stimulating. He was the most methodical man she’d ever been around, which was saying something since her father invented the word.

While he’d removed the back and front panels of the machine, Deacon had asked, “So why an ice cream shop?”

“What do you mean?”

“Why do you own this place? I meant to ask yesterday but you got called away before I could. Hand me the Phillips head, please.”

She did. “My family runs a dairy farm. Have for three generations. My grandmother used to make her own ice cream from the fresh milk when we were kids and I loved watching and helping her when I was old enough. She only shared what she made with the family, though. When I decided to branch out on my own and leave the farm, making ice cream was the first thing that popped into my head.”

With the panels off, he crouched behind the machine, a different tool in his hand.

“Did you work on the farm, too, when you were a kid?”

“Not as much as my brothers. The physical work of running it, according to my father, was a man’s domain. The females were relegated to the house and allowed to tend the smaller animals like the chickens.”

Tandy rolled her eyes at the antiquated notions she’d been reared with.

“Sounds a little, I don’t know? Chauvinistic maybe, in this day and age?”

“Did and still does. My brothers manage the farm now and they would never think of letting a woman help out, no matter that I’m strong and can hold my own, physically. It’s all men’s work according to them. Their attitude was one of the reasons I left home. The idea of cooking, cleaning, and waiting on my father and brothers and not do anything productive with my life was a motivating force in propelling me into business.”

She held back the secondary reason. He didn’t need to know anything about that.

Deacon reached out a hand and said, “Can you hand me the wrench?”

Once he had it, he said, “Good for you. You’re able to run a successful business doing something you love, which is rare. Not everyone can.”

His words and affirmation warmed her. She did love it and told him so.

“It’s cool coming up with new flavors, trying them out, seeing if they’ll be a hit or a miss. Ice cream is much more versatile than most people think.”

Gah. She sounded like she was giving a sales pitch.

If Deacon though her comments dry and boring, he gave no indication.

“What’s your favorite?” he asked as he continued to work on the underside of the machine.

“I’ll give you one guess.”

His quiet laugh flowed upward, tickled her ears – and a few other places as well.

“Vanilla?”

“Got it in one. It’s the all-around easiest taste to combine with.”

“So tell me the flavor combo you love most.”

She didn’t even need a moment to consider. Tandy had devised hundreds of combinations over the eight years she’d owned the shop and she’d forgotten more than she remembered. But her all time favorite was one she’d devised on a whim one rainy Saturday night when she was feeling blue.

“Nutty ‘Nilla,” she told him.

There was a smile in his voice when he said, “I love alliteration.”

“Me too, because it’s easy to remember.”

“So what does Nutty ‘Nilla consist of? Vanilla for sure, right?”

“Yeah. I combine crunchy peanut butter with vanilla ice cream, then add in crushed shelled peanuts, a flavor shot of peanut oil, and top it off with salted popcorn kernels. One spoonful and I feel like I’m sitting at a big top circus.”

She closed her eyes and sighed. “One taste and you can hear the excited rumble of the crowd as they watch a trapeze act, or the roar of the lions as they’re put through their paces by a trainer. I haven’t made it yet this summer because I’ve been so busy. Plus, when I do make it, I tend to eat more of it than I sell, so there’s that.”

Deacon sat up and tossed the wrench into the box. A streak of oil slashed across his cheek and his shirt was a mess of dust and grime. He was dressed in preppy vacation clothes, but right now he looked more like a hot car mechanic than a Wall Street businessman. Tandy found that although she liked the successful corporate guy, she preferred the laborer.

Intrigued? You can get your own copy here: Universallink

Until next time, peeps ~ Peg

Follow me here: Find me

 

 

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#teaserTuesday

 

 

From WOKE, my Sleeping Beauty redux….Aurora is thinking of things she…..misses.

 

He reached into his pocket and handed me a business card.

Enright Investments/Management

Kincade Enright, MBA, PFS

“So, you’re a stock broker?”

“No, I’m in personal finance. I manage investments and portfolios for my clients, one of whom wants an original Ainsworth. So,” he lifted his hands in the air.

“Well, I hope you can make your client happy tonight, Mr. Enright, and in doing so, you’ll both be benefiting the women’s center, so I’ll thank you in advance.”

“You’re welcome, and it’s Cade.” He stuck out his hand to shake mine. “And you are?”

My gaze took a quick dip from his grinning face to his outstretched hand. Manners had been ingrained in me from birth, both by my mother and Maeve, so I slid mine into his, ready to give it a perfunctory shake. The moment his fingers wrapped around mine, though, a bolt of lightning flashed between us and paralyzed me to my spot.

His eyes flickered, telling me he’d noticed it, too.

Warmth steeped through me and flowed all the way to my core, heating it like a nuclear coil. His skin was soft and smooth, like he wasn’t used to manual labor, but by no means was he weak. Strength and power surged from his grip. Instinct told me this was a man for whom character, depth, and a strong sense of self were integral parts of his makeup.

All intriguing qualities in a man.

Intriguing, and wildly alluring.

While he stood in front of me, still holding me hand, I realized I was supposed to answer him.

I blinked a few times to try and refocus myself just as I had at the Till, before finding my voice.

“A.J. Callahan. Sorry, I’ve got a lot going on up here”—I pointed to my head with my free hand—“and I’m thinking of fifty things at the same time.” Lame, I know, but I was really caught off guard by his touch.

He pumped my hand once, then let it go. For a hot second I fantasized about pulling it back and maybe even wrapping it around my waist.

“Well, I’ll leave you to them, then. It was nice seeing you. Again.” He grinned.

“Enjoy the auction and the dinner. Bid often and bid high,” I added. “It’s for a worthy cause.”

With a salute, he made his way into the crowded ballroom.

Well, that had been…unexpected. Serendipity or not, both times I’d been in his presence I’d been rendered a bit off kilter.

Before the coma I hadn’t been a nun. Far from it.

I’d dated—and slept with—my fair share of handsome, rich, socially acceptable guys. None of them had ever made me want to spend forever tied to them. They were merely a way to have fun and explore my own sexuality. I couldn’t remember one guy, though, whose simple touch against my skin had caused such a powerful reaction in me.

The five years since I’d woken I’d been concentrating on getting my life back to some normalcy. That meant focusing on me and me alone. While the number of my former friends had dwindled considerably, the new ones I’d made through my charity work and other endeavors I kept at a relative distance. Very few of them knew I was the former Rory Brightwell, party-girl and society scion. I used my mother’s maiden name now as my own and my initials to introduce myself.

I liked A.J. Callahan. A lot. And I didn’t miss the old me too much.

But some things I did miss, like…sex. I hadn’t met anyone recently who gave me a tingle in that department.

Until today.

I glanced down at his card then tucked it into my clutch.

Intrigued? I hope so, hee hee.

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Until next time, peeps ~ Peg

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

 

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

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

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

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

DIRTY DAMSELS 

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

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

 

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